Only one to stand by me
by Republic-of-Yolossia
Summary: Street magician and con-artist Alin's lack of responsibility and dodgy scams have lost him many friends over the years, except Tsvetan, who has always stuck with him. But when Tsvetan goes missing, Alin must learn to become an adult and face his past, navigating a sordid underworld of crime and death, or lose the greatest thing in his life. Robul, au
1. Night-life

The bar was packed full of people winding down after a long day of work, looking for a good time with friends or simply trying to drown their sorrows; just like every other Friday night. Alin greeted acquaintances with a wave and cheery call as he pushed past groups of friends chatting casually, drinks in hands, and eventually made it to the bar to order drinks, dragging his best friend, Tsvetan, right behind him.

'Do we have to come here all the time?' complained Tsvetan, 'it's dodgy as hell and full of freaking scandalous people. I've seen all sorts of illegal stuff go on in here.'

'_We're_ dodgy and scandalous,' Alin pointed out, resting an elbow on the counter waiting to be served.

'_You_ are,' Tsvetan corrected, sitting on a barstool.

Alin shrugged and grinned, 'yes, I am, which is why I have no guilt in telling you of a fantastic way to make a fair bit of cash for the both of us.'

'Is it illegal?' Tsvetan grimaced.

'Probably,' Alin pulled a stack of tiny papers out of his shirt pocket, 'trust me; this'll make us rich.'

'What'll you have guys?' asked the bartender, moving over to them, absent-mindedly cleaning a glass with a cloth.

'Oh hey Alfie,' Alin grinned, 'two vodka and cokes please, with the little umbrellas if you don't mind' Alfred F. Jones, student and part-time bartender, nodded and began mixing their drinks.

'Wanna hear something wicked?' hissed Alin, nudging Alfred.

'Yeah alright,' Alfred passed them their drinks and leaned on the counter to listen.

'Well these,' Alin waved the stack of papers in Alfred's face, 'are tickets for a charity raffle. We sell these to random people on the street for, say, a few dollars each, and tell them their ticket will go into a draw to raise money for some charity and if their ticket's pulled out they'll win some wicked cool prizes, like a bike or bottle of wine. But,' Alin waved his finger in Alfred and Tsvetan's faces, 'we aren't going to do a raffle. We just keep the money.'

'Immoral,' murmured Tsvetan, 'but pretty smart. I'm in.'

'Not bad,' Alfred raised his eyebrows.

'Hey Al, get off your ass and serve some damn drinks! I'm not paying you to chat with your mates!'

'Right away Toni,' Alfred called back, smiling apologetically at his workmate, 'see ya round.'

'Course,' Tsvetan took a sip from his drink, 'so, Ali, how much did we make today?'

'Seventy bucks,' replied Alin, downing half his coke and vodka in one gulp, 'not bad for a few silly magic tricks.'

'Yeah,' agreed Tsvetan, 'but why do I have to be your 'glamorous' assistant all the time? I wouldn't mind doing a few tricks myself every now and again. I've been practicing.'

'You can do that when you learn to pull a bouquet of flowers out of your sleeve without their heads and leaves coming off,' Alin stuck out his tongue.

'They get caught on my shirt sleeve,' protested Tsvetan, 'not my fault. I'm alright with the card tricks.'

'Yes but you don't have my charisma,' Alin placed a hand on his chest and wiggled his eyebrows. Tsvetan shook his head and took another sip, 'look, here I am in a snappy red and black suit complete with a quirky little hat, and you're in scruffy jeans and some green jumper your Nan sent you.'

'Why am I even friends with you?'

'Because we live together?' suggested Alin, taking another large gulp, 'because I'm irresistible?'

'By 'irresistible' do you mean 'annoying as fuck'?' Tsvetan raised an eyebrow.

'Least I ain't a stick in the mud,' Alin shot back.

'Am not!' cried Tsvetan, 'I just don't want to end up in jail before I'm twenty-three thank you very much.'

'Hey I've never got you in trouble, have I?' Alin placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, 'I'm always careful and if we ever got arrested, I'd take all the blame and do all I can to make sure you'd go free.'

'Alin, I'm touched,' Tsvetan smiled, 'you would really go to so much trouble and sacrifice yourself for me?'

'Course,' Alin shrugged and took another gulp of alcohol, 'an annoying, whiny bitch like you would never survive prison; you'd get your fucking teeth kicked in the first hour you're there.'

'I swear one day I'm gonna punch you in the dick so hard your children's children will feel it,' Tsvetan growled.

'That'll be the day,' Alin finished his drink and slammed the glass on the table, 'hit us again Al!'

Alfred wandered over and grinned, 'same again boys?'

'Sure,' replied Alin.

'Hey I was thinking,' began Alfred, 'how much you selling them tickets for?'

'Three dollars apiece,'

'Three?' exclaimed Tsvetan, 'who's gonna buy a ticket for three dollars?'

'I will,' replied Alfred, 'can I have one?'

'Seriously?' Tsvetan groaned.

'I've always wanted a bike,' Alfred shrugged, 'might get lucky.'

'You know there's no-'

'Of course you can!' cried Alin, 'tell you what, you can have a ticket for two dollars, seeing as you're a mate and all. Just write your name and phone number here and I'll call you if you win.'

'I don't sodding believe this,' muttered Tsvetan.

…

'Have I ever told you you're really hot?' mumbled Alin, voice slurred.

'Yes, every time you get rat-assed,' Tsvetan snarled, supporting his friend as the man could barely stand up by himself. Alin was leaning heavily on his shoulder and Tsvetan was blasted with alcohol breath every time the man exhaled.

'Oh, do I really?' Alin hiccupped and tripped on his own feet, 'well I really mean it, you know?'

'Sure you do,' replied Tsvetan through gritted teeth. He wondered why he was always snappy with Alin when the man was drunk. Maybe he was tired of looking after someone who seemed to have the mental age of a three year old, apart from the whole acting like an outrageous flirt thing. Or maybe it was because Tsvetan had no respect for people who couldn't hold their liquor.

'You're a good friend,' Alin continued.

'I freaking know,' snapped Tsvetan, 'that's why I'm still carrying you after you blew most of our earnings in a few hours chugging down drinks in record time, picked a fight with the biggest bloke you could find and threw up in the alley outside.'

'I fuckin'- fuckin' beat the shit out of that bastard, didn't I?'

'Course you did,' Tsvetan decided it was best not to mention that Alin had lost, badly. Those bruises would _really_ hurt tomorrow. Along with the pounding headache that was sure to follow that much alcohol intake.

'Fuckin' showed him, fat prick; he looked at me funny, you know?'

'Yes yes,' Tsvetan realised they'd reached their building, a large red-brick building full of tiny, run-down, apartments, 'get in will you,' he pushed Alin up the stairs to the front porch, fumbled through his pockets to find his keys, opened the door and shoved his friend inside and to their apartment on the top floor before he woke the entire building up with his noisy chatter.

'Hey it's fucking dark in he-'

'Shut the fuck up and get inside,'

'Fuckin make me,' Alin pocked Tsvetan hard in the chest.

'Alright,' Tsvetan lifted the other man up and threw him over his shoulder, ignoring the drunk's protests.

'Put me down! What are you doing?' Alin thumped Tsvetan's back as the latter tried to find the right key for their apartment door, 'is that my ass down there?'

Tsvetan closed his eyes and began mentally counting to ten, 'no it's mine.'

'Good, those jeans are fucking ugly,'

'I swear,' whispered Tsvetan, finally succeeding in opening the door, 'one day, you won't know what hit you.' He barged into Alin's room and threw the drunk man on his bed.

'Go to sleep,' he commanded.

'But-' Alin bleated.

'Go. To. Fucking. Sleep.' hissed Tsvetan, 'or I'll punch you square in the jaw.'

'Fine, bitch,' Alin laid down and wrapped his duvet around him. Tsvetan sighed and walked into the main room, which was a mixture of a living room and kitchen, poured a glass of water and grabbed a packet of paracetamol from the cupboard. He slipped back into Alin's bedroom and placed both items on his bedside table, for when the man woke up.

'Sweet dreams, crazy bastard,' he whispered, before going into his own room.

…

Hello, yes I know starting a new story was a bad idea but I really like RomBul and got this idea yesterday, so I had to write the first chapter or I'd explode.

So, I'm using Alin as the human name for Romania and Tsvetan for Bulgaria. I hope I'm getting everyone in character and, if not, feel free to point that out.

Actually, any feedback is welcome… please!


	2. Close friends

'Don't ever let me drink like that again,' groaned Alin, stumbling into the main room of their apartment and wincing at the midday light, desperately trying to cover his eyes with his arms.

'Noted,' replied Tsvetan, lounging on the sofa, a smug smile on his face, 'so what's the plan for today, huh? Street magic, selling useless crap or duping people into paying for fake raffle tickets?'

'I think we can take today off,' said Alin, plopping himself down on the couch.

'Very generous sir,' said Tsvetan sarcastically.

'Thanks for the water and pills, by the way,' Alin covered his face with a pillow, 'I've such a massive headache.'

'Have you learnt your lesson yet?' enquired Tsvetan.

'Yes, never allow myself to sober up again,' replied Alin jokingly, sliding down the sofa so he was lying on it instead.

'No,'

'Ah I dunno.'

Tsvetan sighed and turned the CD player on full blast.

'FUCKING WHAT THE HELL MAN?!' cried Alin, covering his ears and gaping at Tsvetan in horror.

'Oh come on,' replied Tsvetan slyly, 'I thought you like loud music.'

'No! I fucking hate music when I've a headache and you know it!' Alin curled into a ball, kicking out and whining.

'No you don't! Sing with me!'

'No!'

'Yes!' Tsvetan was having more fun than he knew he should be, 'come on!'

'Turn this piece of shit song off now!' cried Alin.

'Have you learnt your lesson?'

'Yes! I won't get drunk again!'

'Promise?' Tsvetan raised an eyebrow.

'Yes! I fucking promise!' Alin was writhing on the couch, clutching his head.

'Fine,' Tsvetan switched the CD player off.

'At last!' Alin lay still, 'you know how sensitive I get when I'm hung over; why would you play it when I'm like this?'

'So you learn not to get so drunk that I have to carry you home again,' answered Tsvetan, 'besides, I thought you liked music so loud it makes the whole building vibrate? That's how you spend most of your days off, having one-man discos.'

'Yes but not right now,' grumbled Alin, 'hey are you making breakfast?'

'No-'

'Good boy,' Alin patted Tsvetan on the back, 'I'll have beans on toast.'

Tsvetan sighed and stood up, wandering over to the kitchen area, peering into the cupboard and bringing out a tin of beans and a loaf of bread.

'Hmm, maybe some bacon too?' suggested Alin.

Tsvetan opened the fridge and pulled out a packet.

'And fried eggs?'

Tsvetan placed a carton on the counter with the other ingredients.

'Sausages?'

'Don't have any,' Tsvetan slammed the door shut and turned the cooker on.

'Aww,' Alin pouted and switched the TV on.

'I thought you had a headache,' said Tsvetan suspiciously.

'Yeah but TV doesn't do your head any harm,' Alin began flicking through the channels to find something worth watching, 'hey when you have a moment, be a dear and flick through the TV pages to see if there's anything good on.'

'They're nearer to you,' Tsvetan jerked a thumb at the coffee table, where the weekly TV guide was sitting. Alin feebly stretched an arm out, let out a little whine and looked pleadingly at Tsvetan.

'It's so far,' he complained.

Tsvetan rolled his eyes and passed the magazine over.

'Thanks,' Alin began flicking through the pages, 'hey there's an action movie on later. Wanna watch it?'

Tsvetan grunted, not taking his eyes off the frying pan, where the bacon was now sizzling.

'Cooking show on in half an hour,' Alin's eyes scanned over the page, 'what'ya say?'

'Sure,' Tsvetan shrugged.

'Maybe until then you could pretend you're doing a cooking show,' Alin sat up and watched his roommate expectantly.

'Seriously?' Tsvetan raised an eyebrow, 'isn't that a little childish? Okay then,' he put on his best presenter's voice and faced the cupboards, pretending that was where the cameras were, 'welcome to Tsvetan Borisov's Wednesday cookery show,' he turned around and grinned at Alin, 'today my glamorous assistant, Alin Radacanu , and I will be showing you how to prepare a fried breakfast, perfect for hangovers brought on by irresponsible drinking,' he glared at Alin.

'Yeah yeah,' Alin airily waved a hand.

'Come on, Alin,' said Tsvetan slyly, 'come say hello to the camera.'

'No sodding way.'

Tsvetan groaned dramatically, 'Alin! You cannot swear on national television,' he strode over to the sofa and dragged Alin into the kitchen area, 'now be nice and say hello to everyone at home.'

'Fine,' Alin waved at the cupboards, 'hello everyone!'

'Great,' Tsvetan began cracking eggshells against the frying pan and allowing the eggs to drip into the pan, next to the bacon, 'now Alin, can you get a pan from the cupboard and open that tin of beans.'

'Yes sir,' Alin did as he was told, all the wile pretending it was for the benefit of their 'viewers', 'now let's prepare a breakfast!'

…

'Don't leave the closet you fool!' Tsvetan cried at the TV, 'the killer's gonna find you, you stupid fucking prick!' he waved his arms wildly, almost upsetting the large bowl of popcorn on his lap, 'why am I watching this shit?' Alin just chuckled, taking another sip of cranberry juice.

'It's fun watching horror movies with you,' he commented, 'you're one of the few people who aren't scared shitless of them.'

'Well the acting's so terrible it's laughable,' reasoned Tsvetan, 'and your horror stories are way worse than this crap.'

'I don't tell horror stories!' cried Alin indignantly, 'I tell interesting stories you massive wuss!'

'Sure, sure,' Tsvetan rolled his eyes, 'so what do you wanna watch after this?' the pair had spent the entire afternoon lazing on the couch, eating and watching TV. It was now late evening and the two were making the most of a horror movie marathon. Alin shrugged.

'I think one of the twilight movies is on the other channel,' Tsvetan glanced at Alin slyly.

'Don't you fucking dare!' growled Alin, 'you know I hate modern vampire movies, especially _that_.'

'But it's _such_ a sweet love story,' whined Tsvetan, one more enjoying winding Alin up.

'No it's not!' Alin threw a handful of popcorn in Tsvetan's direction, 'even those crappy old Dracula movies are better than that heap of shit!'

'Ah those are funny,' Tsvetan chuckled, throwing a handful of his own popcorn at Alin.

'Yeah they are. What sort of idiot thought this would be scary,' Alin made fake-fangs with his fingers, 'I vont to suck your blood!' he spoke in an exaggerated accent and leapt at Tsvetan, causing the other to squeal.

'Ah get off me,' Tsvetan rolled up the TV guide and used it to playfully fend off Alin as he pretended to attack him, 'hey no biting!' Tsvetan hit Alin on the head with the magazine, hard.

'But I'm a scary vampire!'

'Piss off!' Tsvetan started laughing uncontrollably, 'ow that hurts! Get your point little teeth out of my arm!'

'Sorry,' Alin scooted over to his own side of the couch, 'and I don't have pointy little teeth.'

'It's fine,' Tsvetan assured him, 'but I might need to call your mother.'

'Why?' asked Alin suspiciously.

'So I can lecture her on the importance of breastfeeding her children long enough to stop them from turning into orally-fixated little psychos.'

'What are you talking about?' scoffed Alin.

'It's in my psychology book,' Tsvetan walked over to the shelf and picked up an old, dog-eared textbook, 'from when I was majoring in it, remember?' he flicked through the pages as he sat back down, 'see? Freud says that if a child experiences trauma during the first eighteen months of life then they can become orally fixated, leading to nail and pen biting, a sarcastic personality and a need to manipulate others to get what they want or need, any of those traits sound familiar, Mr goes-through-fifty-pens-a-month?'

'Well damn,' Alin's eyes scanned the page as Tsvetan was talking, 'but out of us two you're more sarcastic.'

'You're also kind of needy,' Tsvetan commented.

'Oh piss!' huffed Alin, coring his arms and glaring at his friend.

'You know I'm right,' said Tsvetan matter-of-factly, shutting his book and chucking it onto the coffee table.

'Tsve, _why_ did give up college?' demanded Alin, 'you're a clever man and could've easily been a famous psychologist, like that food guy.'

'You mean Freud?' Tsvetan sighed, 'look, things just got in the way. My family couldn't provide all that funding for college and uni, and I wanted to provide for my family. You provided me with work. It may not always be legal, but it brings more money in than just staying in school,' he glared at the man next to him, 'well it would if you didn't spend so much.'

'What?' a hurt look came across Alin's face, 'I spend money on necessities!'

'Like booze and gambling?' Tsvetan raised an eyebrow.

'I also send money back to my mother,' argued Alin, 'you know, to help my little brother stay well fed and happy.'

'Really?' Tsvetan blinked, 'oh, I didn't know. And there was me thinking you were completely self-centred.'

'Well it's the only way to get the old bat to send food and clothes over,' Alin shrugged.

'Ah,' Tsvetan shook his head, 'should've known you'd have an ulterior motive.'

'That's me,' Alin blinked, 'seriously though; you know I do care about my family.'

'I know,'

'I care about you too,' Alin added.

'Really?' Tsvetan glanced at him hesitantly.

'Really,' Alin extended a hand, 'friend.'

'Friend,' Tsvetan smacked the young man on the back and the pair turned their attentions back to the TV.

…

Thanks a million to everyone who's reviewed so far! Your feedback is really appreciated and I hope you enjoy the second chapter.

Now, I should probably put warnings up as, like my other fics, this one needs a warning. It's rated T for violence, alcohol use, swearing and mentions of illegal activities. I'm serious about the violence.

Please review and tell me what you thought of this chapter.


	3. Too close for comfort

'Now for my next trick I'll need a volunteer,' Alin watched in despair as Tsvetan fumbled with a pack of cards, forgot vital parts of the routine he was attempting due to being bogged down with trying to remember the details, and eventually produced the wrong card, much to the aggravation of everyone watching.

'Okay then,' Tsvetan rifled through the deck, undeterred, 'is _this_ your card?'

'No,'

'This one?'

'No,' Alin could see the volunteer was becoming more and more disgruntled and the audience members that hadn't already left were muttering angrily to each other. A few were even booing, to Tsvetan's horror.

The pair were standing in a crowded market surrounded by people selling various items and trinkets from stalls, tables and even suitcases. It was where they spent most of their days, if not performing then selling whatever Alin could find. Alin stood back a little from Tsvetan and his irritated audience, a large, worn out, suitcase at his right leg.

'You know, I was so sure I got the right card this time,' Tsvetan was frantically shuffling the deck, close to tears and starting to panic. Alin decided to jump in and rescue the poor boy.

'Okay show's over,' he walked up to Tsvetan and patted him on the back, 'my friend here's a bit stressed today so can't perform too well. He's a good magician, honestly,' Alin could probably salvage the situation by doing a few tricks himself, but guessed that would just upset Tsvetan even more. The crowd began to disperse, still angrily muttering but one woman walked up to the pair and handed Tsvetan a battered old dollar.

'For your effort,' she told him, then walked off.

'Most grateful,' Tsvetan smiled warmly.

'Okay let's get out of here before you start welling up,' said Alin jokingly and the duo ducked into a side street, sighing with relief.

'Sorry 'bout that,' Tsvetan stuffed the deck of cards into his coat pocket and adjusted his scarf.

'Hey it's fine,' Alin shrugged, then grinned, 'got some new stock in so we can sell that for a bit. But let's take a small break first.'

'Is it stolen?' asked Tsvetan apprehensively.

'Course not! Got it off Alfred's brother.'

'So it_ is_ stolen,'

'Is this really the time for technicalities? I don't know if it's legal or not,' exclaimed Alin, 'and neither does anyone out there. We just have to sell it.'

'Well I'm sure we can simply ask our local police officer no problem,' Tsvetan leaned against a wall and rolled his eyes, 'well we should probably get on with it then and actually _make_ some money today.'

'Don't worry,' Alin assured him, 'if worst come to worst, we can share a bedroom and rent out the other room to whoever's mad enough to take it.'

'I'm not sharing with you,' scoffed Tsvetan, 'you hit out in your sleep. I always wake up thinking I'm in a boxing ring.'

'And you snore so loud it can be heard within a five mile radius,' Alin shot back, 'doesn't matter anyway,' he straightened his black tie, smoothed down his dark red shirt and stuck his thumbs in the suspenders he used to hold up his black pants, 'how do I look?'

'Fantastic,' Tsvetan grinned, 'and how do I look?'

'Like a dipshit in an old coat,' Alin leaned in closer, 'which is stolen, by the way.'

'Course,' groaned Tsvetan, 'you told me you got it in an actual store!'

'And I couldn't believe you thought I was telling the truth,' Alin flashed a grin, 'so, on to business?'

…

'Step right up folks and get your genuine kiddies' toys real cheap,' Alin held up a stuffed bunny for the crowd to see, 'four dollars, what'ya folks say? You'll take two? We have t-shirts as well! In all sizes and colours! Which, believe me, is something you can't get in an ordinary shop, am I right?' now it was Tsvetan's turn to sit in the sideline and watch Alin keep the crowd entertained with a mixture of yelling, humour and salesman jargon, taking money and handing out toys, clothes and bric-a-brac. He really had a knack for getting people to listen to him and Tsvetan wondered why Alin didn't just get a job that involved being around loads of people? He could charm even the grumpiest person, make them laugh and cheer with just a few words and a smile. Heck, Alin could probably make anyone feel good about anything. Tsvetan knew he was, deep down, an annoying little shit, but even deeper down was a genuinely good person, hidden under other personalities. Not for the first time, Tsvetan wondered what made Alin protect his inner self with so many different barriers. It was almost like he was scared of someone liking him in any way, apart from Tsvetan, of course.

'Hey Tsve,' Alin side-stepped over to his friend and handed him a couple of notes, 'go get some coffee, maybe a cake too if there's enough money.'

'Sure, sure, and next time, say please,' Tsvetan gave a small smile and disappeared into the crowd.

Alin chuckled to himself, turned around and was about to make his way back to his suitcase when he saw a policeman rifling through it. He gave a little squeak and tried to back away. Too late; he'd been seen.

'Are these yours?' demanded the policeman.

'Err, no?' Alin tried, attempting to look as innocent as possible.

'Correct,' the policeman nodded.

'Oh?'

'These are stolen goods, so, technically, not yours,'

'They're stolen,' Alin clapped a hand over his mouth, gasping in fake shock, 'oh I had no idea! I'm so sorry! I'm telling you, the man I bought them off _assured_ me they were legal and I had nothing to do with it!'

'Like hell you did,' the policeman lunged forward and grabbed Alin's arm, 'I've seen you before selling dodgy items and conning people out of their money! You won't get away this time!'

'Wanna bet?' muttered Alin, allowing himself to be handcuffed, 'well really, officer,' he added, louder, 'you should at least buy me dinner first before _this_ sort of play.' He was ignored.

'We've been after you for months, Mr Radacanu,' the policeman continued, 'you're pretty elusive.'

'I try,' Alin grinned.

'But it appears your luck has run out,' the policeman went back to the suitcase and Alin took the opportunity to pull a hairpin out of his sleeve, where he always kept it in case of situations like this, which weren't as infrequent as he'd like to admit, 'I have enough evidence here to put you away for a good few years.'

'How nice,' commented Alin, trying to keep the officer distracted whilst he opened the cuffs. Eventually, he heard the satisfying click and the wretched things fell off.

'Hey, err, officer,' Alin began, 'would you like to see a magic trick?'

'No,' the officer didn't take his eyes off the contents of the suitcase, jotting everything down in a little notebook.

'Ah this is a good one,' insisted Alin, 'it's this act where I break out of handcuffs and disappear.'

The officer's head snapped up to see Alin, holding the handcuffs in one hand and giving a small wave, grinning innocently, before he dashed into the crowd of shoppers, throwing the cuffs high into the air behind him.

'Oy! Come back here!'

'No fuckin' way,' muttered Alin as he pushed his way through the throng of people and stalls, ducking and dodging his way down the busy street, desperately struggling to escape. So intent he was in his task, that Alin ran straight into a figure and they both fell to the ground.

'Oh, I'm sorry,' gushed Alin as he tried to untangle himself and get away.

'Oh hey man, what's the hurry?'

'Alfred?' Alin blinked in surprise as the cheerful, blond teen pulled himself up and grinned.

'Yeah, just out getting some stuff,'

'Oy! There you are!'

'Yeah I'm sure that's great and all,' Alin started running again, 'but there's a policeman after me!'

'What?' Alfred started running too, as he was also known to the police for being involved with dodgy activities, 'ah man! What are you getting me into!' he cried, glancing over his shoulder at their pursuer.

'Shut up and follow me!' Alin barged past a large group of shoppers, dragging Alfred with him. The pair weaved in and out of stalls before ducking behind a display of woolly hats and scarves, panting heavily but not making a sound.

After fifteen minutes, they decided it was no longer dangerous and Alfred peeked around the side.

'Coast is clear,' he informed Alin, who nodded.

'Yeah,' he replied, 'I think we're safe now.'

'Great, so can I do my shopping now, or is there a pissed off army or navy I need to worry about too?'

'Not that I know of,' Alin stood up, grinning.

'And what are you going to do?'

'Go home and chill the fuck out,' sighed Alin, 'I'm getting too old for this sorta stress.'

…

'Hey I got out coffees,' Tsvetan stood in the spot where, only ten minutes ago, he'd been watching Alin at work, 'Al? where'd ya go?' it was strange, the suitcase was still there, so Alin must be near, right? He never left the case unattended. What if he was in trouble?

'Got away again,' Tsvetan heard someone mutter behind him. a burly police officer walked past him and snapped the suitcase lid shut, 'at least we can return these,' the police officer added, 'I swear one day I'll get him…'

Tsvetan pretended to admire a set of necklaces on a nearby stall and watched, in quick glances, as the officer picked up the case and left, still muttering to himself.

'Oh god,' he cried, as soon as the officer was out of earshot, 'Alin!' Tsvetan didn't notice he'd dropped the two cups of scalding hot coffee on his shoes and pants, and a couple of passers-by, in his haste to rush off and find Alin.

_What have you got into this time, Al?_

…

Still good so far? I hope so. Please give feedback, and thank you to everyone who's taken in interest in this story so far!


	4. Ignorance

Alin lazily flicked through the channels on the tiny portable TV, not fully paying attention to what he was looking at, just allowing the colours to swirl and flicker in front of his eyes. Next to him sat a bowl of chips and a six-pack of beers, his only companions throughout the lazy afternoon. Outside, the sun was slowly setting behind the grey-brown buildings, orange light spilling in through the window, making the whole room glow in the evening light. A whole afternoon wasted. Not that Alin particularly cared.

He heard the door burst open but didn't bother looking up until a loud, distressed, cry cut through the room.

'WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?' Tsvetan bounded across the room and shook Alin violently by the shoulders, 'I've been looking all over for you! Seriously, Marianne Bonnefoy- you remember her? Francis' little sister- anyway- she told me the police were after you and I tried to find out where you'd gone and if you were still safe. I was so scared that they'd arrested you,' Tsvetan stood up straight and ran his hands through his dark hair, 'I've been round all the bars, clubs, alleys, cafes, just anywhere you would be hiding and asked everyone! No one had seen you!' he laughed, overwhelmed with sheer relief, 'and you were here the whole time!'

'Course…' Alin frowned, 'now could you move; you're blocking the TV.'

'What?' Tsvetan gaped at Alin in confusion, sitting down next to him on the couch, 'but I looked everywhere for you and was so worried.'

'Why? I was here all along.'

'I didn't know that!' exclaimed Tsvetan, 'and why didn't you try to find me when the coast was clear? You must've known I'd be wondering where you'd got to!'

'Please, Tsve,' whined Alin, 'I've had a really stressful day! I was so damn close to going down for a long time it wasn't even funny. I've got the shakes!' he held up both his hands, as if to prove his point.

'Dammit Alin,' growled Tsvetan, 'you always get into situations like this so don't even try to act like it was overly traumatic for you.'

'And I always do stupid shit that gets me into trouble,' Alin shot back, glaring at his friend with a mixture of annoyance and confusion, 'so don't even act like you were all that worried!'

'I always worry about you!' cried Tsvetan.

'Why?'

'Because-' Tsvetan stopped, looking away, 'well, because you're my friend and I care about you, 'he sighed heavily, once more looking his friend in the eye, a grave expression on his face, 'You travel through life tiptoeing along on a tightrope, Alin Radacanu, always one wrong move away from falling into the abyss with no safety net cause- guess what- in life there's no safety net. But you don't see that! Do you never realise how close you are to spending the rest of your life in prison? What am I supposed to do without you?'

'That's nice,' Alin turned the volume on the TV up.

'Fucking unbelievable,' muttered Tsvetan, 'would you even care if I was hurt or killed?'

He got no answer.

'Alin?'

'Sorry,' Alin snapped his head to the side, staring at Tsvetan with a blank expression, 'what were you saying?'

'That's it!' Tsvetan shot up, yelling in frustration, causing Alin to jump, 'I'm fucking outta here! I can't even look at you right now.'

'Good thinking,' replied Alin, 'it's been a long day for both of us and we could do with some time apart for a bit to clear out heads.'

'Clear? You need you're head testing,' spat Tsvetan, glaring at Alin in disgust, 'and I mean it, I'm leaving for good!'

'Don't you think you're over-'

'I'M NOT OVERREACTING!' screamed Tsvetan, 'I've put up with your shit long enough, Alin! You just don't seem to care about how you affect others, do you? You just march through each day expecting everyone to love you and do everything you tell them to without question. And I put up with that because I care about you so damn much, you don't even know how much. But no more! I'm through,' he shook his head in disbelief, 'you're on your own.' he marched into his room, leaving Alin sat in stunned silence.

'What's eating him?' he wondered.

…

'Anything you'd like to say?' Tsvetan stood at the door in his thick green coat and scarf, carrying a backpack full of his possessions.

'…There's a documentary on leeches at nine,' suggested Alin.

'Why am I even friends with you?' spat Tsvetan, throwing the door open and walking into the hall.

'Hey fine, I'm sorry!' Alin leapt off the couch and ran after him, 'we won't watch the show if leeches scare you!' he reached the stairwell just in time to see Tsvetan slam the front door shut behind him. Alin shrugged, returning to his apartment.

'He'll be back,' the man reasoned, 'I'm sure he will.'

…

Thank you to everyone who's taken an interest in this story so far. Not much else to say, cept that Marianne Bonnefoy's the human name I use for Monaco.

Please review and tell me what you think!


	5. Lost and alone

The next morning, Alin found himself knocking furiously on the front doors of everyone Tsvetan knew, trying to find out where the man had spent the night. At that moment, he was standing in the, slightly overgrown, garden of a little brick house, fist pounding on the door.

'Hera… Hera… HeraHeraHeraHeraHera.'

The door swung open and Alin came face to face with a brunette, slightly tanned man in his late twenties. He wore a dressing gown hurriedly thrown over pyjamas and Alin guessed he'd woken the man up by knocking, not that that was his biggest concern right now.

'Yes?' he asked, yawning slightly, 'can I help you?'

'Hey Heracles, have you seen Tsvetan at all?' Alin cut straight to the point, 'we had a fight and he stormed off. I thought he might be here.'

'You wake me up at six in the morning because you can't find Tsve?' Heracles sighed, 'sorry, haven't seen the guy in weeks.'

'Oh,' Alin's face fell.

'Don't be like that,' Heracles gave a reassuring smile, 'he probably spent the night sleeping on Katya's couch, they're pretty close, right? If not, then try Ivan or Sadik,' he scratched the back of his head, trying to come up with more suggestions, 'maybe he snuck back into your apartment complex at some point and stayed with one of the neighbours. Toni and old man Vargas are pretty decent people and wouldn't object to taking him in.'

'True,' agreed Alin, 'but I already asked them. I'll try Katya and the others though.' He began walking down the garden path, 'oh, you will look out for him, right? And get Stelios and Kiku to look out for him too. And if you see Tsve,' Alin sighed, 'tell… tell him I'm sorry.'

'Will do,' Heracles assured him.

…

'Here boy,' Alin let out a series of short whistles, 'come here Tsve,'

He stood in the middle of a small city park, feet crunching against the gravel on the footpath as he wandered past trees, flower beds and green, open spaces. It was early March, and the first daffodils and bluebells were already beginning to spring up everywhere, new life after a cold, dead winter. It was one of Tsvetan's favourite places in the world and Alin hoped to find him here, seeing as none of his friends had seen him. Well, 'hoped' probably wasn't the best word to describe Alin's conflicting wishes. He wanted to find Tsvetan as soon as possible, course, so he could make it up to him, but then again, it was chilly and damp out here and Alin prayed Tsvetan hadn't resorted to spending the night on a park bench. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if that were the case.

'Borisov,' he called, peering into a hedge, just in case Tsve was hiding, 'where the hell are you?'

'Lost someone?' Alin wheeled round to find a small girl staring curiously at him. She had short blonde hair tied with a ribbon and wide teal eyes; he placed her age at around thirteen to sixteen. It was hard to tell because she was wearing a puffy, pink dress that no regular child over six would wear and it made her look somewhat babyish. She was sitting on a park bench, slowly folding and unfolding her hands nervously.

'Well, yeah, actually,' Alin wondered if she would mind him sitting next to her; he hadn't had a break all day. He didn't want to scare her though, she was probably scared enough as it was.

'I've lost someone too,' the girl looked at her lap.

'Oh?' Alin decided to sit down, if only to keep her company, 'who?'

'My older brother,' she looked up at him and gave a bright smile, 'but it's okay. He told me that if we got separated in the park then I should just sit near the entrance and he'll meet me there. That way we have a system of finding each other. I'm Lilli, by the way.'

'Alin. Your system sounds smart,' Alin started playing with his coat sleeves, 'I wish I could do that for my friend.'

'How did they get lost?' asked Lilli, 'if you don't mind me asking.'

'Not at all,' Alin sighed, leaning back, 'well, we had a big argument last night and he stormed out.'

'What was the fight about?' Lilli shrugged, 'maybe talking about it might help you find out where he went.'

'Well,' began Alin, 'yesterday I got- err- into a bit of trouble, shall we say, and I got separated from my friend, his name is Tsvetan, by the way, and I went home, thinking he would do he same. I don't know why, but I was just sitting in my apartment and I kinda started thinking about my life and what I was doing with it. It got a bit deep, too deep for me to really handle, so I started drinking to forget about my problems. Probably not the smartest idea,' he admitted, 'and when Tsve came home he said he'd been looking all over for me and was practically crappin' himself he was so worried.'

'Sounds like a good friend to go to so much trouble,' Lilli commented.

'I wish I'd been sober enough to realise,' cried Alin, 'I just brushed him off and didn't pay attention to what he was saying. I didn't realise how much I was hurting his feelings until he got angry- angrier than I'd ever seen him- and he packed his bags,' Alin shook his head, still not fully believing it even happened, 'that was the last I saw of him.'

'Sounds like you upset him badly,'

'I know!' wailed Alin, burying his face in his hands, 'I'm such an idiot!'

Lilli chuckled, covering her mouth politely. Alin raised his head, glaring at her.

'And what would be so funny?' he demanded.

'Well, yesterday your friend was looking all over for you when you were at home all along,' she explained, 'so maybe today you look all over for your friend and he's at home right now.'

'You think?' Alin stared at her hopefully.

Lilli shrugged, 'it's possible.'

'Great!' Alin stood up, glanced at Lilli and sat back down.

'Aren't you going to find your lost friend? She asked.

'I will,' Alin shrugged, 'but I want to keep you company until your brother shows up. The least I can do after you helped me is make sure nothing bad happens to you.'

'I can look after myself,' Lilli sniffed.

'Yes but you can never be too careful, especially in a big empty park' Alin shrugged, 'hey Lilli…'

'Yes?'

'Do you think I'm rude and annoying?'

'I don't know,' replied Lilli, 'I met you five minutes ago.'

'Ah, do you think my friend might've left because I'm always rude to him?'

'Maybe,' reasoned Lilli and Alin suspected- well, knew- she was lying. It was pretty clear why Tsvetan had left.

'You'll just have to be extra nice to him when you find him,' added Lilli, after seeing the look on his face.

'Of course,' Alin lit up, 'I'll make him a nice dinner and we can cuddle on the couch together and watch whatever he wants. We can crack jokes and sing, if it's a musical, and eat sweets and it'll be so much fun!'

'Sounds nice.'

'Lillian Zwingli!' cried a male voice, 'where the hell have you been?' a young man that could only be Lilli's brother ran towards them, starting uneasily at Alin.

'Sorry, I got a bit lost so I waited where you told me to, but look,' Lilli gestured at Alin, 'I made a new friend!'

'I have told you time and time again not to talk to strange men!'

'You're a strange man and I always talk to you,' Lilli pointed out, 'besides, Alin's nice. And he lost his friend too!'

'Oh?'

'Yeah,' Alin piped up, 'have you seen a man- bit younger than me- from Eastern Europe, Bulgaria, to be exact, with black hair and green eyes? He's a bit scruffy-lookin' and this high,' he held his hand out, palm down, to demonstrate Tsvetan's height.

'No, sorry,' replied Lilli's brother, 'but I hope you find him.'

'Cheers,' Alin leaned back whilst Lilli jumped up and took her brother's hand. The pair began wandering deeper into the park, probably to continue their stroll.

'Goodbye and good luck!' she called back.

'See ya,' replied Alin, who stood up and began walking in the opposite direction, towards the gate and back home. After taking one last glance at the vast expanse of trees and flowers, Alin stuffed his gloved hands in his jacket pockets, hunching his shoulders in response to the chill.

…

'Tsve?' Alin poked his head round the door, scanning the apartment for any sign of his friend. Finding none, he sighed and walked in, plopping himself down on the couch. He should've known it was too much to hope Tsvetan would be there.

'Where could he be?' Alin asked the empty room, 'he's just having a sulk somewhere, that's all,' he told himself, daring to believe it, 'He'll be back when he's ready.'

…

Not much to say here, cept the human names:

Lilli/Lillian- Liechtenstein (and her brother's Switzerland)

Hera/Heracles- Greece

Stelios- Cyprus

Katya- Ukraine

Toni- Spain


	6. For Tsvetan

A whole week passed since Tsvetan had stormed out and each evening of coming home to an empty apartment saw Alin becoming increasingly troubled. He tried to bury his fear, telling himself that Tsvetan was just off sulking somewhere and would come home when he was ready and in a forgiving mood. But each day was becoming more and more of a struggle. How much longer could Alin keep lying to himself like this?

The Thursday after Tsvetan disappeared, Alin found himself getting up in the morning and praying today would be the day his friend came back. He had been gone far too long to simply brush off as 'off sulking somewhere', but Alin still clung to that tiny shred of hope. He decided that, after work, he could always ask around again. Or maybe make some posters to put up everywhere. Alin hoped Tsvetan hadn't been so upset he'd left the country altogether. He'd taken the only mobile phone they owned so they had no way of contacting each other without actually meeting. It also meant Alin couldn't call Tsvetan's family in Bulgaria to see if he was with them and, if not, to tell them he was missing.

Trying to ignore the feeling of helplessness inside him, Alin walked outside to begin another day's work.

…

Alin growled to himself, throwing a, somewhat cheap and tacky, bottle opener back into his new suitcase with its identical companions. He was not his cheery self today, thus was unable to grab shoppers' attentions. Every day he was selling less and less, his heart consumed by worry and loneliness, leaving no strength to engage with his audience. He's stopped bothering with magic completely.

'Hey, buddy,' Alin looked up to find Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, a jolly young Spanish man who lived in the same building as him and owned the bar he and Tsvetan sometimes visited, bounded over and slapped him on the back, 'why so glum chum?' he was wrapped in a warm coat and carried several brown parcels of groceries.

'Haven't you heard?' Alin raised an eyebrow.

'Heard what?' Antonio looked at the other man in confusion, 'if it's a big news story then no, our TV's broken.'

'Oh, well Tsve ran away,' Alin filled in, 'he's been gone for a week now and no one's heard from him.'

'Oh that's a big shame,' Antonio sighed, 'I like the guy. Still, I'm sure he'll turn up. Was it last Wednesday night he left?'

'Yeah, how did you know?'

'We heard you two fighting,' Antonio clarified, 'the whole building did. Well, it just seemed to be Tsve yelling. Still freaked everyone out though. Jan and Carlos, you remember my roommate and little brother, right, started wresting and fighting because they were so bored of listening to you two. Jan's friend Sadik got involved, you know how much he loves a competition, and, well, long story short, someone put their foot through the TV.'

'Who did?' Alin found the little anecdote a mild, temporary distraction.

'Jan's little sister Eva,' Antonio chuckled, 'she got a bit sick of all the noise.'

'Hey I'm sure Mathew'll get you a new one,' reasoned Alin, 'the guy got loads of them.'

'True,' Antonio's smile fell, 'look, do you want me to do anything to find Tsve?'

'I don't think there's much you _can_ do,' Alin shrugged, 'just… just keep an eye out for him, try to listen around too. I'm sure your bar gets loads of talk and rumours. Maybe you'll hear something.'

'No problem my friend,' replied Antonio, 'so what are _you_ going to do?'

'I- I guess I could ask around at all his friends' houses again,' considered Alin, 'or put up posters saying 'if you see this man tell him I'm sorry signed Alin' or something like that.'

'Hmm,' Antonio scratched his chin, 'tell you what, I have an old friend- we go way back- who's pretty high up in society. Well, his wife has, err, connections, to people like us and much worse. Like really scary stuff. But she's well respected and might be, or know, the person you need.'

'Really?' Alin broke into a wide grin, the first one in days.

'Sure,' Antonio shrugged, 'worth a shot. How about I write her name and address for you?'

'That would be brilliant, thanks!'

'No problem,' Antonio took a small notebook, one he used to take orders for drinks at his bar, from his pocket and scribbled something down. He ripped the page out with a flourish and handed it to Alin, who snatched it and pressed the note to his face, attempting to decipher the untidy scrawl that was Antonio's handwriting. When he finally read the name, his heart sank.

'Why her?' he moaned.

'Old friend?' asked Antonio.

'Hardly,' Alin closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, 'of all people…'

'So what are you going to do? Still gonna give it a try?'

Alin didn't answer immediately. Finally, he sighed and held up the note, 'for Tsvetan,' he said.

…

Alin rapped sharply on the front door to a smart little detached house. He took the opportunity to gaze around the small front garden, taking in the rows of flowers, little white ones he didn't know the name of, and the occasional child's toy scattered on the lawn. Shrugging, he turned his attention to the door and knocked again.

'Please don't be in,' he muttered, but his wish was not granted.

'How may we help-' a young woman with long brown hair and sharp green eyes answered the door, beginning a friendly greeting, but stopping at once when she saw who was outside. She scowled at him, and tried to slam the door shut again but Alin wedged his foot in the doorway, preventing it from shutting in his face.

'Ah that hurt!' he hissed, then put on his friendliest fake expression, 'so, Lizzie, how are you?'

'It's Elizabeta,' the woman replied, 'and cut the crap. What do you want?'

'Right, err, I was told you were the one to talk to about a problem I've been having…'

'No,' barked Elizabeta, 'besides, I believe the last time we met I told you to stay out of my life forever and go jump off a cliff or something.'

'Since when do I listen to you?' scoffed Alin, 'look, I have a really bad problem and need you. This is something I can't go to the police for and everyone I know is unable to help so you're my only option. You know damn well I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important.'

'You're not borrowing any money from me,' Elizabeta warned.

'I don't want your damn money,' Alin groaned, 'I just need advice. And maybe a few names and contacts. It's really all down to what you advise.'

'And I advise you to get your foot out of my door before I break it,'

'Please,' pleaded Alin, 'I'm not here for me. I'm here for someone else.'

'Since when did you do anything for other people?' scoffed Elizabeta.

'Since now,' snapped Alin, who then sighed, 'look, I promise that if you help me this'll be the last time you see me, ever.'

'Tempting,' Elizabeta rubbed her chin, 'so all I have to do is give you some advice on whatever problem your 'friend' has and you'll be out of my life for good?'

'Pretty much, yes,' Alin rested his head against the doorframe, 'ah go on, for old time's sake!'

Elizabeta snorted, letting him in.

'Oh thank you!' Alin shook her hand furiously, 'I promise you won't regret this!'

'I already have,' muttered Elizabeta, 'oh, my husband and son are here. Roddy knows pretty much everything about my past, so you may talk freely if need be, but I would ask you keep your conversation clean and family friendly for the sake of Franz.'

'Fair enough,' Alin shrugged.

'We're just in the middle of dinner at the moment so could you make this qui-'

'Excellent,' Alin bounded into the dining room, 'I haven't eaten all day.'

'No, that's not what I-' Elizabeta groaned, following him. She found Alin sitting at the dining table with her husband, Roderich, and five year old son, Franz. He was sitting at her seat eating from the plate she'd put out for herself a moment before he'd knocked.

'Wow this is actually good,' he commented through a mouthful of vegetables and chicken, 'did you make this?'

'No, I did,' said Roderich, smiling politely, though his expression was strained with a hint of confusion.

'Thought so,' muttered Alin, 'it actually tastes nice,' he added, glaring at Elizabeta, who scowled and stormed into the kitchen to get a new plate for herself. She wondered if it was worth getting a life sentence for beating Alin to death with the rolling pin lying on the counter, but decided against it. Upon returning, she found Alin alternating between shoving forkfuls of food into his mouth and making stupid faces at Franz, who giggled loudly. Roderich, on the other hand, looked like he was about to faint.

'Hey the kid looks a bit like that Beilschmidt bloke you used to go out with,' Alin remarked as Elizabeta sat down.

'He has my eyes,' Roderich cut in, before Elizabeta could react. She was grateful for her husband for saying that. The rolling pin in the kitchen seemed pretty tempting now.

'I see,' Alin squinted, staring at Franz closely, 'he's got your mole too.'

Roderich's lips tightened, unsure of how to reply.

'Alin here has a problem he wants me to help him with,' Elizabeta explained to Roderich, 'I promise he won't be staying long.'

'Course,' Alin grinned through a mouthful of food.

Franz laughed, 'you're funny, Uncle Alin!'

'No he isn't!' cried Elizabeta, 'and he's not your damn uncle!'

'Okay, but he is funny though. Comedy is art, remember?' Franz shrugged, shovelling the last few forkfuls of his dinner into his mouth before beaming at his parents, 'finished!'

'Great, now go outside and play while the adults talk for a bit.'

'Aww,' Franz groaned, but listened to his mother. He jumped down from his chair and picked up his plate, walking slowly towards the door. Before he left, Franz turned around, 'hey, can we adopt Alin? Please say yes!'

'Certainly not,' exclaimed Elizabeta.

'Okay,' Franz sighed and walked out.

'So how do you know each other then?' enquired Roderich, making polite conversation whilst slowly stirring a cup of tea.

'Ah,' Alin leaned back in his chair, 'we used to be partners.'

'P-partners?' spluttered Roderich.

'Work partners,' clarified Elizabeta, 'we did street performances together when we were younger. You remember, I told you about the singing and magic tricks I used to do to make a living.'

'I see.'

'Yeah we weren't, like, lovers-partners,' added Alin, 'oh no, jeez I wouldn't go near her with a ten-foot pole.'

Roderich's mouth opened and closed, but he said nothing.

'Why are you here?' demanded Elizabeta.

'I want to know if you've seen my buddy Tsvetan,' replied Alin.

'Who?'

'You know, Tsvetan. Oh wait, we met after you and me went our separate ways. Erm, he has dark hair, green eyes, slight tan but not too noticeable. He has a Bulgarian accent and can usually be seen singing.'

'No, I have no idea where your friend is,' sighed Elizabeta, 'I've never even met him. Must be a close friend, if you're going to so much trouble. What happened and where did you last see him?'

'We had a big fight, see, and he's been off sulking for a week now. I kinda missed him so I've been trying to find the guy. None of his mates have seen him either.'

'Tsvetan… Tsvetan…' Elizabeta rubbed her chin, 'that name rings a bell…'

'Yes?' Alin sat up and looked at her hopefully.

'Oh… oh sweetie,' Elizabeta shook her head and stared at Alin with a look of distress and pity.

'I hope I don't offend you by asking this,' began Roderich, staring at Alin with the same expression, 'but do you own a television set?'

'Course I do,' said Alin, 'got a cheap one off a pal of mine.'

'And what sort of things do you watch?'

'Movies and sports, sometimes cooking shows too,' Alin shrugged, 'though I haven't even bothered since Tsve left, why?'

'No news programmes?'

'No,' Alin's eyes widened, 'oh god, what's happened?'

'It's best you see for yourself,' Elizabeta picked up a remote and changed the channel of a small TV on the wall above the fireplace, switching it to the 24 news channel where the day's soccer results were being shown.

'It might take a few minutes to show the story,' Elizabeta told him.

'What story?' cried Alin, 'what's happened?'

'Please, just trust me and wait.'

'Fine…' Alin stared blankly at the TV as meaningless stories flashed on the screen in front of him. After a few minutes, he heard something that made him feel sick to his core.

'-Police are still searching for the missing person who disappeared last Thursday,' a grim-faced news reporter began speaking, almost glaring through the TV at them, 'Tsvetan Borisov, aged 22, went missing in the early hours of the morning and police were called after his backpack and trace amounts of blood were found by a passer-by on the sidewalk along with a smashed cell phone,' the screen changed to footage of police standing next to a taped-off area of an unfamiliar street, 'Both the blood and phone were later confirmed to belong to Mr Borisov,'

An image of Tsvetan, probably provided by Heracles or Katya, flashed on the screen. Alin recognised the photo as being from his twenty-first birthday party. His hair was neatly parted and he was smiling brightly over a glass of wine, his first legal drink. It was taken at a nightclub where he and all his friends had went for the evening and he had an arm, probably Alin's, wrapped around his shoulders.

'Mr Borisov,' continued the narrator, appearing on the screen once more, 'was born in Sofia, Bulgaria and moved to the U.S. when he was eighteen to finish his education, pursuing a career in Psychology. He dropped out of college in his second year and has been unemployed ever since. His family have been informed of his disappearance and are urging anyone to come forward with any information they have in regards to this event.'

'Friends of the young man have told police he'd left his home after a row at the time of his disappearance and his backpack was found to contain spare clothes, textbooks, money and his passport, confirming these reports.

'The police are now treating the case as a murder inquiry.'

Alin stared at the TV in numb shock long after the story finished. He couldn't believe what he had just heard, 'n-no,' he spluttered, 'it can't be true! Tsvetan is the least offending person I know; who would want to hurt him?'

'He could have had issues with someone you don't know about,' Elizabeta suggested, rubbing his back soothingly.

'No,' Alin shook his head, 'we tell each other everything. He never got into trouble. I was always the person to get on the wrong side of people.'

'Well maybe someone attacked him to get to you.'

'Then it's all my fault…' murmured Alin, tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes.

'He could have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time,' reasoned Roderich.

'We're so sorry to hear about what happened to your friend,' added Elizabeta.

'What?' Alin shook his head dumbly, 'no! You're talking like he's dead!'

'But the reporter said-'

'He's wrong!' Alin jumped up and started backing towards the door, 'you're all wrong! Tsve isn't dead! He can't be; I need him!' and with that, he ran out of the house, blindly knocking over objects that got in his way in his haste to get away.

'Poor boy,' muttered Elizabeta.

…

Sorry about the delay; here's a nice long chapter to make up for it. I hope everyone was relatively in character and if not, then please point it out. Preferably with some advice so I avoid making the same mistake twice.

Now, on to human names:

Carlos- Cuba

Jan- Netherlands

Belgium- Eva

Sadik- Turkey

Elizabeta- Hungary

Roderich- Austria

Franz- Kugelmugel

Beilschmidt (Gilbert)- Prussia

I'd really like some feedback just so I know what I'm doing well (and badly). Please, this chapter was a butt to write because it was long and I wanted to make it realistic.


	7. Motionless door

Alin took another large gulp at whatever the barman had handed to him and tried to process what he'd discovered, but failing.

How could Tsvetan be dead? It just wasn't possible. And even if he was still alive, what chance did Alin have of finding him? What was even happening to him right now? Was he in unimaginable pain? Was he being tortured? Beaten? Was he even still in the city or country? Alin didn't want to think of the terrible things that could be happening to Tsvetan whilst he sat in the warm, comfy club slumped over the bar trying to drown his sorrows. He couldn't even begin to think about how he was supposed to live without him. He just wouldn't be able to.

And what about his family? Though Alin hadn't met the people, they pretty much knew all about each other (minus Alin's dodgy activities) and were extremely fond of each other, treating him like another family member. Especially Tsvetan's grandma, who'd looked after Tsve and his siblings as children whilst their parents worked and loved him to bits. She was always sending knitted items to the pair of them and at the start of every winter the two young men always awoke to find parcels filled with woolly hats, scarves, jumpers, blankets and all sorts of things the old woman had spent all summer knitting ever since Tsve had mentioned in a letter how much colder it was in America during the winter. Alin had even spoken to her on the phone, even if he couldn't understand her mix of English, Bulgarian, and the occasional Romanian word, very well. He remembered one fond memory that started when he came home one day to find Tsvetan, who was still in collage at the time, being yelled at over the phone by his grandma. She wasn't extremely angry with him; just annoyed in a fond, sort of grandma-rant way. She was yelling at him for not having a girlfriend or wife yet and that it was his duty, as the oldest grandchild, to provide her with great-grand children before she died to dote on. He'd been trying to explain that he didn't want to be a father yet, and from what Alin understood, didn't want a girlfriend or wife, ever, but it seemed to be falling on deaf ears. Alin remembered laughing at his friend's distress, then taking the phone off him and offering to marry him instead, for a laugh, even if he was the only one to see the comedy in it. Much to the surprise of everyone present, she agreed and started making plans for the wedding, arranging to fly over there and asked Alin to get his family to do the same thing! He managed to get a word in half way through her plans for them to adopt and explain he was joking. He was surprised that she still liked him after that incident, but the old lady took it in her stride.

She must be devastated now. Of course, she still imagined Tsvetan as the small child who followed her around smiling happily. He could just imagine her, sitting at her kitchen table with her son, daughter-in-law and grandchildren. She would probably be holding an unfinished blanket or letter for Tsvetan, one she'd never be sending.

'I suppose you saw on the news then,' Ivan, the owner of the club, slid over and sat next to him.

'It's unbelievable,' Alin shook his head, 'how could anyone do anything like that to Tsve. What had he done to deserve it?'

'From what I hear he was beaten up and dragged into a car,' Ivan told him, 'at least that's what the police are saying.'

'What?' Alin whimpered, 'who could do such a thing?'

'In all honestly,' Ivan looked him dead in the eye, 'there are rumours going around that it was you. Your fight was pretty suspicious, according to some people, and his murder was either an act of revenge or to silence him. Some of the staff here weren't too happy about me letting you in the club tonight.'

'It's not true,' gasped Alin, 'you have to believe me it's not true!'

'Don't worry,' Ivan winked, 'I told them you were innocent. Besides, seeing you in this state, I can't believe for a second that you're a killer. That and you don't even have a car.'

'Thanks,' Alin sighed, 'I know it's bad, being in a club like this so soon after finding out but…'

'Can't bring yourself to go home?' offered Ivan.

'That's it! How can I go there? Everything will remind me of him. Where he used to sit, all his books- where he'd folded down the pages to mark where he'd got up to- and his smell,' Alin shook his head, 'if only I could spend the rest of my life drunk, and not have to face the pain of losing him.'

'You'll have to face it some day,'

'I know, but I don't know how to,' Alin buried his face in his hands. He looked up, glancing around. Ivan's nightclub was old-fashioned and classy, with small tables dotted about and a stage in the middle, which contained a grand piano and two young men, one playing, one singing. Nearby, two girls sat at a table, watching them perform and cheering, well, one was cheering, the other looked a bit bored.

'Do Toris and Ed have to play such miserable music?' he whined.

'It's not miserable, just slow,' Ivan pointed out, 'it's to set the mood.'

'Sure…'

'Hit us again, Francis,' Ivan called to the barman, who nodded and filled their glasses with a clear liquid, smiling sympathetically at Alin, who just scowled. He didn't need Francis' sympathy; _Tsvetan_ was the one who needed sympathy, and mourning.

'Don't stare at me like that,' Francis sighed, 'we all miss him. Look, do you want to stay with Ivan or myself for a few days, until to get yourself together a bit. Loosing someone is hard… but we'll be there for you, okay?'

'Thanks Frankie,' Francis' eye twitched at the nickname, but he didn't comment on it, 'I really appreciate everything but… I need some time on my own. You know, to…'

'Grieve in peace?'

'Yeah…' Alin sighed and stood up, 'well, no point in putting off the inevitable, I bid you both good day.'

'Take care of yourself,' said Ivan, 'please don't do anything stupid, you know Tsvetan would want you not to.'

'Course…'

…

Alin sat on the steps in the darkened hall outside his apartment, not having the resolve to go inside and start a new life without Tsvetan. Instead, he just sat there, staring at the stationary front door below, wishing with all his heart that Tsvetan would just walk through it. Such a simple action, but one he'd never do again. The last time he ever saw Tsvetan, he'd left through that door, full of anger and misery, let down by the one person he trusted most. So different from the first time they'd met, in the same spot, all those years ago.

*One morning, several years earlier*

Tsvetan rang the buzzer then stood, nervously hopping from one foot to the other, straining his neck as he looked up at the building before him. It was tall, and slightly run down, but homely-looking, and Tsvetan hoped he'd be accepted. He took the ad he'd cut out of a newspaper out of his coat pocket to read over again, shifting the strap on his backpack. Yes, he definitely had the right address.

The door opened and he came face to face with a grinning young man a few years older than he was. The man was dressed casually, in a purple t-shirt and scruffy jeans. His hair was scruffy too, covering his ears and nearly covering his reddish-brown eyes.

'Are you Mr… Radacanu?' asked Tsvetan, reading the name from the advert.

'Yup, please call me Alin though, Al and Ali are acceptable names too,' Alin grinned, 'so what can I do for you?'

'Uh,' Tsvetan began, 'I'm here about the ad, you know… for the roommate thing.'

'Ah, another contestant vying for a place by my side,' Alin leaned against the doorframe, raising an eyebrow, 'so tell me, what makes you think you're worthy of staying here?'

'What?' asked Tsvetan, 'I don't know? Erm, well if you let me stay I'll pay half the rent.'

There was a slight pause before Alin spoke again, 'fair enough; come inside.'

'Thanks,' Tsvetan grabbed the handle of the small, wheeled, suitcase that stood next to him and went to step inside.

'Hold on a sec,' Alin held out a hand to stop him and sniffed Tsvetan.

'What was that for?' the man cried.

'Well, if there's a chance that we're gonna be living together and being around each other all the time,' reasoned Alin, 'then I at least want you to smell decent.'

'And do I?'

'Could be better, I have to admit,' Alin shrugged, 'still an improvement on the last guy, though; he smelt of fried onions and processed cheese. Oh by the way, what's your name?'

'Tsvetan Borisov.'

'Well, Tsve, shall I show you to you potential new home?' Alin offered, walking across the hall to the stairs, kicking up dust covering the dark red carpet.

'That would be nice,' Tsvetan made to follow him, but tripped on the frayed welcome mat he'd not seen, he yelped and almost fell flat on his face but Alin caught him just in time, holding him almost bridal-style.

'Hey you okay mate?' he asked.

'What are you doing Alin?' a man who appeared to be in his late forties walked in through the front door and over to an apartment on the ground floor, laughing and shaking his head, 'no wonder you scare away all your applicants.'

'He tripped; I caught him, Mr Vargas' Alin shrugged, setting Tsvetan down, 'no harm, right Tsve?'

'Sure,' Tsvetan dusted himself down and smiled politely at Mr Vargas, who cheerily waved back before entering his own apartment.

'Ah old man Vargas is a nice man,' Alin grinned, 'lives with his three grandsons. If you need anything and I'm not around, feel free to ask them.'

'Really?'

'Yeah, well, lets go see the place then,' Alin began walking up the stairs, 'try not to fall over on your way up.'

'Hey it was a one time thing! Just lost my balance, been a bit tired lately,' Tsvetan picked up his suitcase and began carrying up the stairs.

'You're eager,' Alin raised an eyebrow, eyes on the case, 'you know you're not moving in today, even if you get the place.'

'Well, I kinda have to carry my stuff around now,' Tsvetan averted his eyes.

'You're… homeless?'

'Yeah, been sleeping under a bridge for the past week,' replied Tsvetan.

'Oh, what happened to your old place?' Alin took the suitcase and carried it up the stairs for him, 'here, let me help you.'

'Cheers, well, I had to leave,' explained Tsvetan, 'my old roommate was… shall we say… unpleasant. He kept mocking me and every time his friends came over they'd be horrible too and… well, I don't really want to talk about it. Let's just say things got a little scary and I thought it would be best to get the hell out.'

'You poor thing,' soothed Alin, 'well, I promise I'll be a lovely roommate!'

'Thanks,'

'So, here it is,' when they reached the top floor, Alin strode through an open doorway into a messy living room, setting the suitcase down by the door 'sorry bout the mess.'

'Hey, I'm a college student, I've seen far worse,' joked Tsvetan.

'You're in college? What are you studying?'

'Psychology,' Tsvetan beamed proudly, 'it's one of my passions.'

'The others being…?'

'Singing and baking.'

Alin's lips thinned, but he said nothing.

'Yeah, I know it's kinda girly sounding-'

'Not that,' interrupted Alin, 'it's just, we don't do cooking here. Don't touch the oven, ever.'

'Why?'

'Because I said so,' growled Alin, then his face softened at Tsvetan's fearful expression, 'sorry, I didn't mean to come off all aggressive; I promise I'm not like that really. Look, trust me when I say it's better to order food, or eat cold stuff.'

'Fine, I can live with that,' Tsvetan shrugged, taking off his backpack, 'so where's my room?'

'Right this way,' Alin opened one of a pair of doors next to each other. Tsvetan jogged over and peered in to find a tiny room with a single beg shoved against the opposite wall with a battered wardrobe and bedside table making up the furniture. The whole room was filled with filled bin bags and cardboard boxes.

'Ah, sorry about the clutter,' Alin looked at Tsvetan apologetically, 'I promise to have it cleared away before you move in, err, if your application is successful.'

'Course,' Tsvetan had one last glance around the room before exploring the rest of the flat, which really was just the main room and Alin's room, which was 'closed to the public' apparently.

'So that's about it,' concluded Alin, clapping his hands, 'any questions?'

'Well, I wouldn't mind knowing what you do for a living,' Tsvetan shrugged, 'just curious.'

Alin chuckled, slapping Tsve on the back, 'plenty of time for that later.'

'I see,' Tsvetan sighed, 'well, I guess that's about it, right?'

'Sure, I plan to inform the successful applicant on Monday, so look out for that,' Alin began showing Tsvetan to the door, 'I mean, I don't have a phone or anything, but I'll think of something.'

'Okay, well I await your… whatever, with great anticipation,' Tsvetan grinned, picking up his backpack and suitcase, 'see ya then.'

Alin stared at Tsvetan as he began to leave, lip quivering. The poor kid looked so pitiable it made his heart pang.

'Hey, wait!'

Tsvetan turned around and looked at him curiously.

'You got the place!' Alin threw his arms in the air, 'congratulations!'

'Really? I thought you had other people coming to see it.'

'Yeah, doubt it,' Alin shrugged, 'so what do you say, roomie?' he held out his hand, smiling hopefully.

'Why not,' Tsvetan shrugged and shook his hand, 'thanks for letting me stay.'

…

Alin shook the memory out of his head, and stood up, stumbling slightly. Tsvetan would never walk through that door again and Alin would just have to accept that, no matter how hard that would be. He fumbled with his keys, having to attempt putting the key in the lock three times before finally succeeding. Before opening the door, he rested his forehead against it, letting out a cry of grief before finally stumbling in.

He'd still had that tiny shred of hope, that Tsvetan and everyone else was just playing a massive prank on him and that his best friend was waiting just inside, ready to yell 'surprise!' and jokingly scold him for being an ass. Then Alin would promise to always listen to and respect him, and honestly mean it, and then they'd curl up on the couch and eat, watching movies like old times. But those hopes were crushed when he opened the door to his empty apartment, same as he'd left it, but with one small change…

Alin tried to focus his eyes on it, and when he eventually saw what it was, sobered almost immediately.

'Oh god, no, don't let it be what I think it… oh Tsve… I'm so sorry.'

…

Sorry for the delay, and the cliff-hanger... and the crappy story.

Anyway, thank you to everyone who's reviewed/followed/faved etc. I really appreciate any feedback you have. So, are you enjoying the story so far? Am I getting everyone in character?

Also, when I use fanon names for characters in future, should I put them at the beginning of chapters to make things easier?


	8. so we stole from you

Early next morning, Alin pounded on the door of a familiar little house with a neat garden and he continued knocking frantically even after he heard footsteps in the hall on the other side. On this occasion, there was no time for admiring the little white flowers, or the children's toys scattered about the lawn.

'Lizzie… Lizzie… LizzieLizzieLizzieLizzie,'

'It's Elizabeta to you,' the door was thrown open and Alin came face to face with a very angry Elizabeta. But then again, anyone woken up at six o clock in the morning was bound to be very angry.

'Oh thank goodness you answered!' he cried.

'I thought you said I wouldn't see you again,' demanded Elizabeta, 'it's only been one day!'

'Yeah well,' Alin shrugged, 'circumstances have arisen that require your assistance.'

'I see. Do you want to come in?' asked Elizabeta stiffly.

'No, no,' replied Alin, 'no need for that. Look, I know we hate each other and you're the most annoying bitch in the world-'

'If you hate me so much why are you here?'

Alin looked at her pleadingly, 'because I'm scared and I need help.' He pulled something out of his pocket; something dark stored in a see-through plastic wallet, and handed it to her, 'a lock of Tsvetan's hair. I found it on my table last night along with this,' he handed her a crumpled up piece of paper.

''You stole from us so we stole from you,'' Elizabeta raised an eyebrow; 'Tsvetan was abducted because of something you did?' she glared accusingly at Alin, whose face crumpled, nodding.

'I know,' he cried, 'it really is all my fault that I won't see him again!'

'Don't say that!' exclaimed Elizabeta, 'we can still get him back.'

'Really?' Ali dared to believe her, 'how?'

'I don't know,' Elizabeta admitted, 'have you thought of going to the police?'

Alin shook his head, 'that'd be impossible. The moment I walk in a police station that'll be the end. They're probably only broadcasting Tsvetan's disappearance as a ploy to get me arrested or something. Seriously, why else would they be so concerned about a missing, unemployed immigrant? If I get arrested, who will be left to help Tsve? No one!'

'Okay, so that's a big no no,' Elizabeta thought for a moment, 'don't worry, we'll think of something. Do you know who could've done it?'

Alin nodded, 'turn the paper over.'

Elizabeta obeyed and turned the note over to find a symbol, 'it's a… rabbit and…'

'A troll,' Alin finished, 'the sign of Jensen and Kirkland.'

'Who?'

'Some old acquaintances of mine,' explained Alin, 'that symbol used to contain a creature of my choice too, a leech, to be precise. We used to work together, doing street magic and getting into all sorts of trouble with the law. I cheated them out of some money and kinda legged it before they could find out. I guess I should also admit to sleeping with the both of them, around the same time, without the other knowing.'

'Alin you stupid little prick!' groaned Elizabeta, 'well, at least we know who done it. And as you're so insistent on not involving the police, you have no choice but to talk with them and pay back the money you stole.'

'I can't,' Alin waved his arms in frustration, 'Jensen and Kirkland are impossible to talk to! Trust me when I say they're seriously twisted people. Take that note, for example…'

'It's just a taunt,' Elizabeta ran her eyes over the message again.

'Yes but what's it written in?' pressed Alin.

'Ink? Like everything else.'

'Look closer,'

Elizabeta did so and an expression of absolute horror appeared across her face, 'it's… it's…' she covered her mouth with a hand.

'It's blood,' Alin could feel he was starting to panic the more he dwelled on it.

'Yes, that's really sick,' agreed Elizabeta, 'but since when were you so fazed by a smidgen of blood?'

'It's not just any old blood,' a haunted look came across Alin's face, 'it's Tsvetan's.'

'How can you be so sure?' scoffed Elizabeta.

'I just know, okay?' Alin was close to tears now, 'it means he's dead. Or in such a state that he'd be better off if he _was_ dead!'

'We don't know that,' insisted Elizabeta, 'look, maybe you could just arrange negotiations with these people, or just tell the police what you know.'

'I can't do either! I've already said!'

'Well how about this,' Elizabeta folded her arms, 'I have a cousin who might be able to help you. Do you want me to arrange an appointment with him? Tino knows everything about… these kinds of people and you could always pay him to… take care of them.'

'I don't need a babysitter for them!' cried Alin, 'I need a… oh, you're talking about an assassin, right?'

'Yes.'

'Hmm,' Alin scratched his chin, 'do you think your cousin will be able to succeed without Tsve getting hurt?'

'I know he will.'

'Well, what harm could it do?' Alin shrugged, 'sure, could you arrange a meeting then?'

'I'll do my best,' Elizabeta assured him, 'do you have a phone I can contact you with?'

Alin shook his head, 'don't own one, too risky for the police to trace so I don't bother with one. Tell you what, I know your other cousin, Eduard. You still keep in touch with him?'

'Course,'

'Well tell him to find me when you have any information,' Alin gave a hopeful smile, 'I… have to say, and it pains me to do so, but, thank you, Lizzie. Without you I wouldn't have a hope of getting Tsve back.'

…

So, is the story good so far? Please give feedback!

Right, on to human names:

Jensen- Norway [first name: Aleksander]

Kirkland- England [first name- Rose]

Tino- Finland

Eduard- Estonia


	9. I'll bring the bullets

Alin couldn't help but gulp as he stared at the dingy little building in front of him. It appeared to be three office businesses piled on top of each other, taking up one floor each. Next to the door were three labelled buttons to allow visitors to buzz themselves in: a dentist's and a publishing company, but Alin pressed the top button, the one simply labelled 'Väinämöinen'.

He took a few steps backwards and tired to stop himself fidgeting as he waited for an answer. It was Sunday morning, almost three days after first discovering the twisted note. Was that all? Then again, time tends to pass slower when you're too afraid to sleep at night. Too afraid of everything. But today brought a shred of hope to Alin, along with a sense of unease, ever since he awoke to find a message from Eduard Von Brock, Elizabeta's cousin, to say that Tino Väinämöinen, another cousin of hers, was prepared to meet with him later that morning at a given address, this address. He felt torn between giddy excitement and agonizing worry. Yes, he was that bit closer to finding Tsvetan, in whatever condition he was in, again, but on the other hand, Tino was a trained killer, and he was about to get two new targets. Alin didn't want to admit it, but the thought of death, even of people who he'd hadn't seen in years and hated, scared him. The idea of Tsvetan's death scared him most of all though. After a couple of minutes spent tensely standing in front of the building, he heard footsteps and the door opened to reveal the most terrifying man Alin had ever seen. He was around six feet tall with piercing teal eyes that glared at him through wire glasses, and a long navy-blue trench coat added to the intimidating image. Alin couldn't help but let out a little squeak.

'Um, hello?' he tried. The man didn't reply so he just continued, 'erm, I believe you're expecting me.'

'Name?' his voice seemed to match his face, and was heavily accented.

'Alin Radacanu,' Alin answered, 'Elizabeta sent me.'

'C'me with me,' the man turned around and walked across the hall, footsteps surprisingly quiet despite the tiled floor. Alin followed him up two flights of stairs to a wooden door with a little bronze plaque, bearing the name 'Mr Väinämöinen'. The man knocked sharply.

'Come in,' a voice called sweetly. The man opened the door and ushered Alin inside, shutting it quickly. The office he found himself in was small and run down, with just a mess of books and files shoved onto shelves lining the wall and a desk standing in the middle of the room with a window, blinds pulled down, behind it. A young man sat in an office chair in deep conversation with, much to Alin's surprise, two little boys no older than five years of age. The man, whom Alin assumed to be Mr Väinämöinen, noticed the new arrivals and smiled warmly.

'A Mr Radacanu to see you,' said the man who'd shown Alin in.

'Ah, yes, thank you Berwald.' Berwald walked over and allowed Mr Väinämöinen to kiss him on the cheek, 'that'll be all dearest.' Berwald nodded and walked out of the room. 'Now kids,' Mr Väinämöinen turned to the two boys, 'go with Papa Berwald please.'

'But-'

'Peter, Lars, daddy needs to talk business with the nice man.'

'Okay,' the two boys jumped off the desk and ran to catch up with Berwald, leaving Alin to study the hit-man closely.

Mr Väinämöinen did not look capable of tracking down and killing anyone. Fine blond hair tumbled down his face, almost covering his lilac eyes. He looked young, with his full, rosy cheeks and bright smile, and Alin couldn't help letting out a snort.

'You're an assassin?' he scoffed, 'you look no older than fifteen! Maybe I could take you seriously when you actually hit puberty! I mean it; call me back when your voice breaks you foetus! What do you use to get people anyway, a water pistol?'

'No,' Tino's smile widened and he drew a revolver out of his inside blazer pocket, 'I use this.' He aimed the gun at Alin, who threw himself flat on the floor. He heard the crack of a gunshot, the splintering of wood and cried out. When no other sounds followed, Alin dared to lift his head up and found Mr Väinämöinen standing behind his desk, pointing the gun straight at him. His smile was gone now.

'That was just a warning,' he growled, 'don't mock me again.'

The door flew open and Berwald ran in, glancing from Mr Väinämöinen, leaning on his desk, breathing heavily and snarling, to Alin, lying on the floor covering his head with his arms, trembling. Alin swore he saw a hint of worry when Berwald looked at Tino, waiting for the latter to say something.

'Tino?' he asked, his expression back to giving no emotion, his voice a different story altogether.

'Nothing to worry about,' Tino's smile was back, 'just clearing something up.' Berwald nodded and left again. 'So,' Tino looked down at Alin again, 'shall we start over?'

Alin nodded, whimpering.

'Take a seat,' Tino sat back down and looked at Alin with interest, gesturing to the plastic chair in front of the desk. The young man obeyed, standing up slowly, cautiously, and walked over to the chair. He spared a glance at the door behind him; the fresh bullet hole glared back at him, standing where his head had been mere moments earlier.

'So how are you today, Mr Radacanu?' asked Tino politely. Alin, thrown somewhat off guard by his sudden friendliness, struggled to form an answer.

'Uh, okay… I guess,' he shrugged, 'you don't have to call me Mr Radacanu, if you don't want. Alin's fine.'

'And likewise, Alin, feel free to call me Tino.'

'Course,' Alin grinned nervously, then frowned as a thought struck him, 'sorry, don't wanna seem rude or anything but… you take your kids to work with you? I'm not trying to offend you- trust me, that's the last thing I want- I'm just curious.'

'Of course, that seems like a reasonable question,' replied Tino, 'I know it's odd, but it's the weekend and since both Berwald and I spend our whole day here, we have to take them with us.'

'Oh, okay…'

'But enough of the small talk,' Tino waved a hand dismissively, 'down to business. My dear cousin Eli tells me you need someone taken care of.' There was a malicious edge in the last three words and Alin gulped before nodding.

'Y-yes, well, two people actually, if that's oh-okay,' Alin could feel himself tripping over his words, 'Lizzie tells me you do that sort of thing.'

'For the right price,' Tino leaned back in his chair, 'you bring the cash, I bring the bullets.'

'O-of course,' Alin frowned, I can probably raise the money.'

''Probably' is not good enough, but we can discuss that later,' Tino sat up, his lilac eyes boring into Alin's burgundy ones, 'right now I'm more interested in who you want done in. Do you have any photographs of the targets? An address, maybe?'

'No,' Alin admitted, 'but I have names and descriptions!'

'That'll do,' Tino shrugged, 'so who are they?'

'Aleksander Jensen and Rose Kirkland,'

Tino's smile fell, 'oh no,' he said, 'I can't do that. Aleks and Rose are good friends and have my protection.'

'What?' gasped Alin, 'no way.'

'Aleksander is an old friend of Berwald's and I have custody of Rose Kirkland's son, Peter, as her… lifestyle was apparently unsuitable for raising a child. Not that I mind, Berwald and I are very fond of children and we already had Lars so another little one was hardly a strain.'

Alin wondered what on earth Rose would be doing that required her to hand her child over to a hit man. Oh yeah, she seemed to be occupying her time by abducting people and doing all sorts of appalling things. At least Tino never brought his work home with him, probably.

Wait, son? Oh no…

'And, err, how old is little Peter?' he asked uneasily.

'Three,' Tino explained, 'the little cutie's already in a nursery group.'

'Oh thank goodness,' Alin sighed in relief, 'Rose and I haven't seen each other in five years,' he explained.

'You are asking me to take out an ex-lover?' Tino raised an eyebrow in a judging manner, 'still, not like that hasn't happened before. People have asked me to get rid of all sorts of family members.'

'I don't know how much Lizzie has told you,' began Alin, 'but they've taken my best friend, are hurting him and taunt me with sick messages,' he pulled the lock of hair and bloody note, which he always kept close to him, out of his jacket pocket and tossed them onto the desk. Tino eyed the piece of paper curiously and picked it up.

''You stole from us so we stole from you'?' Tino glared at Alin.

'I know!' the boy wailed, 'Tsvetan means the world to me now they've taken him away and it's all my fault!'

'It is,' agreed Tino, 'but maybe you can atone for your mistakes yet. Eli told me you stole some money from them. Maybe I could get in touch with Aleks and Rose to arrange a meeting between you and you can pay back the money.'

'But they're not the sort of people who take too kindly to being cheated, or being owed,' protested Alin, 'that's what they do. They lend people money, wait a few years to lull them into false security, then they chase them up and demand repayment. With interest. Impossible-to-pay interest. If a person can't pay, and they usually can't, they're made to pay with flesh! I know, I used to be one of them and now I have to live knowing my teenage years were spent hurting people. Why do you think I got out when I did? I was scared! Oh god,' Alin ran his fingers through his hair, 'they've probably known where I was all along! The pair of them were just skulking in the shadows, watching, waiting for an opportunity to strike. I knew I should've changed my name when I left…'

'I see,' Tino sighed resting his hands in his chin, 'the thing is, I really want to help you. You seem like a genuinely nice guy, even if you don't know when to shut up, and I admire the lengths you're going to for your friend.'

'Well, he's more than my friend,' corrected Alin.

Tino's eyebrows shot up, 'I see…'

'No, not in that way,' Alin chuckled, 'I meant like best friends. You know, really close friends.'

'Indeed…' Tino gave a small smile, 'I understand. The thought that someone you care for is in danger is the worst feeling in the world. If anyone laid a finger on Berwald or my boys, I'd put so many bullets in them they'd be more lead than flesh. Are you sure you will not reconsider a meeting? I'm sure all Jensen and Kirkland want is their money back. even they wouldn't want to see an innocent man murdered.'

Alin didn't feel like pointing out that he'd probably never make it out of a meeting with them alive but his own life wasn't important now. Getting Tsvetan back was. Besides, everyone said that it was always better to try and fail than not try at all, so he might as well give it a go. What had he got to lose?

'If it's no trouble,' he began, 'then maybe a could meet up with them to discuss matters. You can get in touch with them?'

'Of course,' Tino chirped, 'I'll ask them what day and time would suit, I'm sure you don't have any plans, right? I'll get little Eddy Von Brock to deliver the details. Nice to see you're thinking rationally now.'

_Rationally?_ Alin scoffed silently_, I haven't had a rational thought in years._

…

So are you enjoying the story so far? Now, I know it's probably a bit odd using Nyo!England instead of regular England, but I've never written her before and I wanted to try something new (besides, she's awesome and beautiful and probably really sassy). And I also want to apologise to England and Norway fans for making the characters the antagonists. But I promise not to make them crappy and 2-dimensional. Like with my other stories, I'm going to actually try to make my baddies more believable, and less painful to read.

Okay, so human names:

Berwald- Sweden

Peter- Sealand

Lars- Ladonia


	10. Deal

Four days since his encounter with Tino the assassin, Alin found himself once more searching for an address scrawled on a note once again delivered by little Eduard early in the morning. This street was tremendously different from the last one, in that it was residential, and extremely wealthy. All around him stood large, beautiful, houses partially hidden by iron gates, hedgerows and white, stone walls, and Alin couldn't help but feel out of place in his old jacket, fingerless gloves and scruffy jeans. Around him, families with children too young for school and couples ambled past, talking excitedly of spring.

Of course, the crisp, morning air and flowers peering out of flower beds after a long winter's sleep did indeed signal the arrival of a new season, a new year and, hopefully, a new life. Alin felt it was almost cliché-like in its relevance. After today he would almost certainly be starting a new life, with or without Tsvetan beside him.

On the other hand, he was going far too deep into his past for his future to even feel relevant in any way, yet the lives of both him and Tsvetan depended on how this meeting went. What were Aleksander and Rose like now? Had they found their moral compass? Alin doubted that; he just prayed they hadn't gotten any crueller.

They had seemed such nice people when he first met them, a teen just out of high school and between homes, unable to keep a stable job and resorting to more illegal methods to make sure he stayed fed. They were all around the same age, and little Rose and Aleks seemed to have been dealt a rough hand too. The trio had an unspoken rule of never mentioning their pasts, and Alin wished he'd had the sense to challenge that. Sure, he knew from hints and dark expressions that they were angry at their lives, but he never realised just how much they wanted the word to suffer as they had. Of course, back then he was the same. He hated his life, all alone in a strange country away from his parents and little brother, being forced to deal with stolen items and even being a crook himself at times. But he had his silly little magic tricks to keep him entertained, to keep him from completely losing it. And later, Tsvetan using him as a test-subject for his psychology work- psychoanalysis, he called it- helped Alin get to the root of his problems and begin to work them out. Aleksander and Rose had none of that, and probably still thought they were right to hurt people. Why should others be happy when they were not?

Alin ran his eyes over the note once more. If Tino was right, their house should be a few feet in front of him. His pace quickened to a jog and, sure enough, he came to a large iron gate with a plaque bearing the same address as the message. Underneath the plaque was a button and speaker. Hand shaking, Alin pressed the button to ring the doorbell and notify them of his arrival. A few seconds later, the speaker crackled and the smooth, calm voice of Aleksander Jensen greeted his ears.

'Hello, how may we help you?'

Alin suppressed a shudder and leaned forward, 'H-hey, I believe you're e-expecting me.'

'Alin! You're right on time,' replied Aleksander.

'Well you don't have to sound so surprised,' muttered Alin, then he leaned in closer and added, louder, 'Tino said he'd arrange a meeting.'

'Ah yes, how is he? Such a sweet boy. Is his family well?'

'Err, fine, I think,' Alin frowned, 'can I come in? I think it's best to get on with this, right?'

'Are you in any position to be giving orders, Radacanu? I think not,'

'Understood,' Alin waited for a few moments then the gate opened automatically. Fancy. Alin let out an impressed whistle as he walked past, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walked down the garden path. He looked up at the house, squinting his eyes to see in through the windows. He wondered which room Tsvetan was in, if he was staring back and waving, or if he was unable to even stand up or see.

He walked up the steps and waited at the front door, wondering if he should knock. His question was answered by the door opening and he came face to face with-

'Natalya?' Alin gasped, 'what are you doing here?' Natalya Braginskaya, Ivan's little sister, was a glum-looking girl in her late teens, and seemed just as surprised to see him as he was to see her.

'What are_ you_ doing here?' she hissed.

'I asked first!'

'Fine,' Natalya shut the door quietly, stepping out onto the porch, 'my brother got into trouble with money he borrowed years ago and well… long story short, I had been- still am- in a relationship with a certain Aleksander and he gave me a choice: either I work for him and his partner here or they track down Vanya and kill him.'

'Oh… oh Natalya,' Alin stopped himself from running over to the girl and pulling her into a hug. It would only be met by anger.

'And what about you?'

'They're keeping Tsvetan here,' replied Alin.

'I know; I've seen him.'

'And?' Alin stepped forward, shaking in anticipation, 'is he okay?'

'He's… alive,' Natalya chose her words carefully, 'but-'

'Natalya! Where's our guest?' called a female voice from inside.

'Right here,' Natalya called back, 'coming!' she grabbed Alin's arm and dragged him inside into a magnificent hall, dominated by a huge staircase. There were doors either side, all closed, and the only source of light, now that Natalya had closed the front door, was coming from a dim chandelier, the curtains having been drawn closed.

'But what?' hissed Alin, 'what have they done to Tsve?'

'Not now,' Natalya whispered back, 'I'm sure you'll find out.'

'Find out what?'

Natalya shushed him and dragged him into a large dining room. The curtains were also drawn here, the room lit only by the candelabras on the grand dining table, a heavy mahogany thing filled with plates of rich food. A large duck sat in the middle, surrounded by roast potatoes, steaming vegetables, hams, fish, sauces and a manner of all things. At one end of the table, sat Aleksander Jensen, leaning back in his large, cushioned, chair and staring at him, expression giving nothing away. He wore a dark blue and black evening suit, and in one hand was a glass of red wine.

Across from him, Rose Kirkland was sitting up straight and regarding the new arrival with interest. She looked beautiful, as always, in a baby-blue dress that glistened in the dim light, neck and ears dripping with diamonds. Sparkling green eyes stared up at him from behind designer glasses and her blonde hair was pulled back, held in a bun by more glittering jewellery.

'Well look at you,' she purred, 'do you see this, Aleks? Our little Allie's all grown up.'

'You're not looking so bad yourself,' Alin grinned nervously.

'Please, be seated,' Aleksander gestured to an empty chair, equal distance from the two sitting at the end. Alin nodded, and sat. The chair was comfortable, and, under any other circumstance, Alin would've gone on for ages about how he wanted to sit here forever, but he remained silent.

'That'll be all, Natalya,' said Rose.

'Of course,' Natalya nodded and left the room. Alin wanted to call her back; her presence was strangely comforting and he almost felt like he had an ally in this hellhole. But of course, if it came down to it, Natalya's loyalty to her brother would mean she'd do anything for Jensen and Kirkland, not an almost compete stranger she didn't even like.

'So,' Aleksander leaned forward, setting his glass wine down, 'what do you think of our new place? You seemed pretty keen on this city, so we thought we'd check it out too. Decent neighbourhood, probably a little different to the area you settled in though.'

'Ye-yeah, I really liked what you did with the… lights,' Alin looked around nervously. Why didn't they just cut to the chase?

'We're so looking forward to catching up,' Rose gave a small smile, 'it's been too long since our last meeting. So… still a piss-artist who flogs hooky crap?'

'No I am not,' growled Alin, 'well, maybe but look; you know damn well why I'm here. Aren't we gonna discuss that?'

'Yes, but first we're having lunch,' Aleksander gestured to the food in front of him; 'Natalya and I worked tirelessly to make all of this for you. Now help yourself. There will be plenty of time to talk afterwards.'

Alin's lips tightened, but didn't argue. They were doing it deliberately, to torture him with suspense. They knew all he wanted was to talk about Tsvetan and were dragging out the process for no reason. He loaded his plate, still glaring at Aleksander, and took a bite of fish. It melted in his mouth, so full of wonderful flavour and texture, and he quickly shovelled another forkful into his mouth. For the past week, he'd been too nervous to eat properly and Alin thought he might as well take advantage of their hospitality… wait…

Alin's eyes widened and he spat the fish out, glaring savagely at Aleksander, 'okay,' he snarled, 'why aren't you two eating? What did you put in this?'

'Nothing and that's the truth,' stated Rose, delicately placing a forkful of duck in her own mouth, 'oh that's lovely Aleks. Bravo.'

'What reason would we have to spike your food?' asked Aleksander.

'Well there are a fair few-'

'You're no used to us unconscious or stoned,' Aleksander cut in, 'so just relax, and eat.'

Alin waited a few more moments, eyeing the other two whilst they ate. Deciding he was safe, he took a bite out of the ham, and the three ate in silence. Occasionally, Rose would ask him about his life and Alin would be forced to give a reply, between wolfing down the meal.

'No point in rushing,' chided Rose, 'we all have to finish before we move on to the matter at hand.'

'Understood,' Alin slowed down his pace, eventually losing what little appetite he had altogether. He sat in silence, nervously picking at a thread in his jacket and praying there were no other courses. Eventually, Aleksander put his fork down and wiped his mouth with an embroidered napkin before standing up and gesturing for Rose and Alin to follow him through a side door.

Alin's stomach tightened; what if Tsvetan was through that door? He braced himself for the worst and almost sighed in relief when he found himself in an empty office. Like Tino's, books covered the walls, but the whole room had an air of old fashioned order that the assassin's office didn't convey at all. A large, heavy desk stood in the middle of the room and Aleksander sat himself down behind it. Rose shut the door, the last one in, and moved over to the bookshelf, sitting in an armchair in the corner.

'It's good to see you after all these years,' drawled Aleksander, taking another sip of the wine he'd brought with him from the dining room, 'Rose and I were so worried about you.'

'Indeed,' added Rose, 'Alin, dearie, why didn't you say you were in trouble financially? We would've given you all the money you needed. We're partners, remember?'

Lies, lies, lies. Every word. They'd have treated him like any other person they lent money to, no matter his relationship with them back then. Surely they must've known he left because he was terrified of them and only took the money to make sure he could get by on his own.

'_Were_ partners,' corrected Alin, 'I think duos are better than trios.'

'Personally,' Aleksander's lip curled into the slightest of sneers, 'I've seen you as being more of a _solo_ act.'

Alin paled as he realised what the other man meant; 'don't hurt Tsvetan,' he whispered.

'Where's our money?'

'I don't have it!' cried Alin.

'Then your friend doesn't have a hope,' Rose pushed her glasses further up her nose, 'if you have nothing for us then he'll be dead within the hour. Now clear out.'

'What?' Alin shook his head, 'no, please, I'm begging you! Tsve never did anything to hurt you, or anyone! Let him live godammit!'

'What's this?' Aleksander's eyebrow twitched in amusement, 'Alin Radacanu, _begging_?'

'I don't know what image you have of me,' Alin looked Jensen straight in the eye, 'but there is no low I won't stoop to, to get what I want. And right now I want Tsvetan Borisov safe and home where he belongs.'

'Well, well, well,' Rose raised an eyebrow, regarding Alin with interest, 'this changes things. I'm quite curious about just how far you're willing to go.'

'Me too,' Aleksander rested his chin on his hands, expression blank as ever, 'how about this: we give you one week to pay back what you owe.'

'Plus interest,' Rose chimed in.

'Plus interest,' Aleksander repeated, 'which would bring your total to around ten thousand dollars. Now here's the deal: you leave here and get the money, every cent, I don't care how you raise it, but I want you to bring it all here by nine o'clock next Thursday night or Mr Borisov is history.'

'Yes, of course,' Alin gave a hopeful smile, 'I'll do it! I'll bring you your money.'

'You better,' growled Aleksander, then he leaned back in his chair 'well, there seems to be nothing else left to discuss. Good day, Radacanu.'

'Wait,' Alin shot up, holding out a hand, 'I want to see him.'

'Who?'

'You know who! Tsvetan, I want to see Tsvetan alive, or the deal's off.'

'Well I don't see a problem with that,' Rose shrugged, 'this way,' she opened the door and gestured for the other two to follow her. Alin allowed himself to be lead into the hall and up the grand stairs, then up even more stairs to the attics. His breath quickened, becoming shallow, and his stomach was once again tying itself in knots. They walked along a corridor, lit by a tiny window at the end, doors on either side. At the end, Aleksander turned and took a tiny key out of his pocket, using it to open the last door.

'Is he in there?' whispered Alin.

'Go right ahead.'

Alin pushed past the other two and barged into the room. It was almost empty of furniture, the floorboards bare with splinters sticking out everywhere. The dust in the room and on the window stopped a large portion of the light coming through, but there was enough to see clearly.

Alin, of course, noticed none of this, and instead bounded towards Tsvetan, who was sitting in a rickety wooden chair, his back to the door, slouching forward.

'Tsve! It's me, Alin!' Alin skidded past the chair and came to a halt in front of him, gasping in horror.

Tsvetan was tied to the chair using thin coils of rope wrapped around his wrists and ankles cutting off blood and leaving purple bruises, especially where they rubbed against the skin when he tried to wriggle free. He was thin, with hollowed cheekbones, and covered in bruises and scars of all ages and colours. Tsvetan's hair was unwashed and clung to his skin, caked in dried blood, from a head wound he probably received during his kidnapping, and sweat, and his coat and scarf were missing, more bruises and bones showing through his thin t-shirt, which did nothing to protect him from the chill. He was also blindfolded.

'Al? where are you?' Tsvetan looked around fearfully, voice raspy from thirst, 'is this another trick?'

'No, it's really me,' Alin knelt down in front of him and brushed Tsvetan's face with the back of his hand, 'it's alright now.' He sat up and started undoing the blindfold.

'Oy! Remove it and we'll kill you both!' snarled Rose.

'Please! Tsvetan's terrified of the dark!' begged Alin, 'at least let me take the blindfold off!'

'Why do you think we put it on in the first place?' sneered Aleksander, 'leave it or else.'

'I see,' Alin dropped his hands, resting them on Tsvetan's knees, 'look, Tsve, I'm gonna get you out of here, promise,' he sighed, 'I'm so, so sorry for getting you into the mess. I understand if you're furious…'

'I was,' admitted Tsvetan, 'at first, but now I just want you to get me out of here. Please, take me away.'

'I will, but not right now,' Alin promised, 'I have to get the money first before they'll let me take you home. It's only one more week; you can make it.'

Tsvetan shuddered, but nodded, gulping, 'I- I'll try.'

'Come on Tsve, you're better than this!' cried Alin, 'you can make it; I know you can.'

'You don't understand…' he whispered.

'I do,' Alin rested his head in his friend's lap, 'boy do I do.' A thought struck him and he sat up, pulling his backpack off his shoulders and opening it.

'You better not be trying anything,' growled Aleksander.

'I'm only giving him some water,' Alin held up a plastic bottle to prove it, 'I promise I'm not trying anything.' He unscrewed the lid and put the bottle to Tsvetan's lips, 'here ya go; you look like you need it.' He allowed Tsvetan to drink the entire bottle before shoving it back in his bag, 'look, I know this is awful but, you can make it through the week. I believe you can,' he sighed, taking Tsvetan's face in his hands, 'it kills me to see you like this, and there won't be a day that goes by where I won't feel guilty for this. One more week. One more week and we can go back to how things were… if you want to, that is.'

'I do,' whispered Tsvetan.

'Thank you,' Alin's lips twitched upwards for a second, 'I don't deserve you.'

'I know,'

'Just… if you're ever feeling scared, or alone,' began Alin, 'try to think of nice things. Like… warm food that melts in your mouth or… sitting by the window watching the sun set, lying on the window sill with your leg hanging over the side, like you always do, just singing to the city. Try to think… of all the stupid shit we did together, that's it! If you're sad, just think of the time we got drunk and tried to see how many crayons we could shove up our noses.'

'I ended up bleeding;' Tsvetan chuckled, 'didn't I?'

'Yeah, that was it,' Alin laughed, 'sorry about that too.'

'Hey I don't mind; it was a good laugh,'

'Nice to see you smiling again,' Alin commented, stroking Tsvetan's hair, 'you keep that up, okay?'

'Time's up,' Aleksander interrupted, striding over and grabbing Alin by the arm, wrenching him up.

Alin was only dimly aware of it all; all he knew was that his friend was getting further away from his reach.

'No,' he mumbled, 'no let me stay some more!'

'You've had long enough,'

'No! Tsvetan! Please, let me go!'

He was dragged out of the room and the door slammed shut and Tsvetan disappeared from view.

…

'I'm sorry,' Alin whispered under his breath, for what felt like the millionth time on his journey home. He hadn't even begun to think about raising the money to pay Jensen and Kirkland back. How could he? He could still picture Tsvetan tied to that chair, alone in the dark. His hopeful face at hearing Alin's voice, the expression of horror when he realised he was not being rescued, the hollowed cheeks, visible collarbones, it killed Alin to see him like that.

He was so wrapped up in the gruesome thoughts, that he didn't notice the police car outside his house until it was almost too late.

He looked up and stopped himself from screeching in shock and ran, diving into a nearby alley before peeking out to find out what was happening. Two policemen walked out of his front door, in deep discussion, and continued their conversation in front of their car. After a short while, a third policeman jogged outside and showed something, Alin couldn't see what, to the first two. He watched in despair as all three ran back inside and decided he'd seen enough, leaning against a wall and sliding down, settling in a crouched position.

The police were searching his apartment. Now what will he do? Alin sighed and stood up again. He couldn't stay here, that's for sure, lest they find and arrest him, and started walking deeper into the alley, soon breaking into a jog then a full run.

He'd have to find somewhere else to stay, but where? Any one of his and Tsvetan's friends could've given the police their address and he didn't know who to trust anymore. There was no other alternative. Ducking into another side-street, Alin slowed to a walk. He hoped _she_ wouldn't mind an extra guest.

…

Sorry for the lack of updates, I wasn't sure if people still like this story; here's a nice long chapter to make up for it.

I hope the characterisations are okay and if not then please say (so I don't look like a dick and all)!


	11. Accused

'Open the goddamn door!' Alin's fists pummelled the door until an irate Elizabeta threw the thing wide open and glared at him.

'Last Thursday you said that if I helped you I'd never have to see your sorry, good-for-nothing ass again,' she stated.

'And?'

'This is the second time you've shown up on my doorstep since then!'

'Since when do I ever keep my promises, you scary banshee of a woman?' Alin barged past her and ducked into the hall, fixing his hair and hat in the little mirror hanging next to the coats, 'look, Liz, you gotta hide me!'

'Why _me_?' Elizabeta raised an eyebrow, closing the front door.

'Because someone's told the police where Tsvetan and I live, and now I don't know who to trust any more. So you're the only one I can turn to as you don't have my address,' Alin sighed, turning to face her, 'see, people like, well, me have this agreement of not going to the police for anything, no matter how important it is. You of all people should know how delicate and intertwined the shadowy underworld of crime is. If one of us gets arrested and imprisoned, the others will follow soon, a bit like human dominos.'

'Course,' replied Elizabeta, 'but then why would someone call the cops on you?'

'Dunno,' Alin shrugged, 'maybe it's one of our non-criminal mates. I have a fair few, despite popular belief. Okay, maybe they're Tsvetan's old college friends, but still! Or maybe someone thought this shit was serious enough to actually get the law involved. As a matter of fact, I was hoping to borrow your TV too; might shed some light on the whole thing.'

'Very well,' Elizabeta sighed and showed him into the sitting room, a cosy little room at the rear of the house with a view of the back garden. Roderich and Franz were already curled up on the sofa, boredly watching after-school children's programmes on the TV.

'Ooh, Sesame Street,' Alin grinned and plopped himself down next to Franz.

'Hi Uncle Alin!' the child beamed.

'He's still not your uncle!' called Elizabeta.

'Sup little man,' replied Alin, ruffling the kid's long hair.

Elizabeta cleared her throat, leaning against the door frame, 'don't you have something to do?'

'Oh, right,' Alin turned to Roderich, 'can I borrow your TV to watch the news again?'

'Please,' Roderich practically shoved the remote into his hands. Not a fan of kid's TV, huh?

'Cheers,' Alin flicked over to the news channel and the opening sequence to the six o'clock news appeared, 'ah, just in time.' They had to wait a few more minutes before the relevant story came up and when it did, Alin once more felt his blood run cold.

'-Police have raided the home of the suspected murderer, Alin Radacanu, and are still on the lookout for him. They have warned the public not to approach Mr Radacanu as he is dangerous and likely to be armed, and if you do see him, or have any information regarding his whereabouts, then contact the police immediately.' A picture of Alin, a single headshot of him glaring into the camera, appeared on screen, 'Mr Radacanu has been suspected of murdering student Tsvetan Borisov,' his picture was replaced by one of Tsvetan, the same one from last time, 'who was apparently his roommate and close friend.'

'A friend of the missing person,' continued the newsreader, 'who cannot be named for legal reasons, informed the police of their concerns in regards to Mr Borisov's disappearance. They'd also told the police that the two men were close, but had fallen out the night Mr Borisov went missing.' A photograph of Alin and Tsvetan slouching on a park bench grinning at the camera and holding tubs of frozen yoghurt appeared. Alin remembered that photo from last summer; a big group of them had all gone down to the local park to play soccer, and muck about in the playground.

'It is believed Mr Radacanu murdered Mr Borisov out of anger or revenge, but the police have yet to find a body.'

'What bullshit!' cried Alin once the report was finished, 'I never killed Tsve! Heck, he ain't even dead!'

'You've seen him?' questioned Elizabeta.

'Yes he…' Alin's face fell, 'I saw Jensen and Kirkland in person. Turns out that cousin of yours is best mates with the pair and won't kill them, so made me go talk it out with them instead. Anyway, they say I have a week to pay back what I owe- with interest- or they'll kill Tsve, for real this time!' he leaned back and groaned, 'I saw_ him_ too, tied to a chair in the attic. They're beating and starving him! They blindfolded him too just because he hates the dark,' he looked up with watery eyes, 'h-how can someone do that to another human being?'

'I… I don't know,' admitted Elizabeta, picking up Franz and stroking the child's hair protectively, 'but he's still alive; that's the main thing. You just gotta get the money and he'll be safe, right?'

'But how?' demanded Alin, 'there's so much!'

'Look, how about this,' began Elizabeta, 'when do you have to bring the cash to them by?'

'Next Thursday,'

'Well raise what you can and meet us here on Thursday,' she suggested, 'Roddy and I will pay the rest. Hell, we'll even drive you there.'

'Really?' Alin's face broke into a grin.

'It's to save someone's life,' Elizabeta shrugged, 'it'd be nice if you paid it back sometime, though.'

'Sure, I'd rather owe you money than those guys,' Alin shuddered, then paused for a moment, 'I… well, I appreciate what you've done, everything you've done for Tsve and me.'

'Don't mention it,' Elizabeta waved a hand, 'seriously, don't mention it. Ever. Look, Roderich and I are good people, right?'

Roderich didn't appear to be listening.

'Roddy?'

'Huh, sorry,' Roderich turned to face the other two, 'it's just, are you sure they've been beating and starving Tsvetan? They'd want to keep him alive to lure you in, right? Doesn't make sense to risk killing him.'

'Huh? You don't believe me or something? I know what I saw!' Alin wrinkled his nose, 'you've led a pretty sheltered life, haven't you?'

'More or less…' admitted Roderich.

'Look, it doesn't take a few weeks eating next to nothing to kill someone, usually. A few kicks in the stomach won't kill you either. They're doing it partly to scare me, and partly because they can,' Alin sighed, hugging his knees, 'it was a cruel trick, setting out that massive feast when there was a man starving about our heads. I gave him some water though, maybe that'll help. Maybe it's better _those people_ don't give him food. Knowing Jensen and Kirkland, they're probably feeding him crushed glass and asbestos.'

'Oh now you're just upsetting yourself!' scoffed Elizabeta, 'they're not trying to kill him! Well not just yet anyway.'

'It baffles me though,' Roderich shook his head in disbelief, 'how do they even think they can get away with such atrocities?'

'Well, if they get one hint that the cops know anything, they'll kill Tsve!' exclaimed Alin, 'and they are using that to keep me from doing anything else but giving in to their wishes.' He put his head in his hands and felt tears form in his eyes. Meeting Jensen and Kirkland again, finding Tsvetan in that state, finding out everyone thought he was a murderer… the whole day had been too much for him. It would be too much for anyone! Now he was somewhere he felt safe, Alin let everything out, let the tears roll down his face as he cried out for his lost friend, for his lost life. He faintly felt someone rest their hands on his shoulders, which were shaking from his sobs, and Roderich dabbed his face with a handkerchief.

'Hey,' he soothed, 'just let it all out, okay? You're doing everything you can for him.'

Alin shook his head, staring at Roderich with a red, blotchy face and an expression of disbelief.

'He… he thought I was coming to take hi… him home,' he sobbed, 'the l-look on his face… it was so full of hope! Like he believed he was going to be saved and I had to t-tell him he wasn't going anywhere and that I'd let him down!'

Just then, the front doorbell rang and Elizabeta set Franz down, running into the hall to answer it.

'Wait… you have a doorbell?' Alin raised an eyebrow.

'Yes we were wondering when you'd notice,' Roderich commented.

'Well damn,'

'So what seems to be the problem, officer?' asked Elizabeta from the hall, raising her voice so it could be heard in the sitting room. Roderich and Alin exchanged horrified glances and Alin slid off the couch, tiptoeing over to the door to listen closer.

'…a neighbour reported seeing a wanted criminal being let into your home less than half an hour ago,' the policeman replied, 'it's probably imagination running wild; we've had several sightings of Mr Radacanu today, but it's best to make sure. We need to search the place, just to be safe.'

'Well, I don't know why anyone would make such a slanderous accusation,' Elizabeta exclaimed, 'but do come in! We have nothing to hide.'

'That's your cue to leave,' hissed Roderich, dragging Alin into the kitchen and quietly opening the back door, 'Franz will show you the way.'

'Course!' Franz took Alin's hand and led him into the back yard. The pair broke into a run until they reached the wall at the end, which Alin dived over, landing painfully on the stony ground behind it.

'Good luck,' Franz called, running over to a little swing-slide set, so it would look like he'd been out there the whole time.

'Cheers!' Alin called back, crawling army-style, despite the pain in his arms, ribs and jaw, along the floor of the alley behind the house as fast as he could. The whole thing was too close for him, now that he was being accused of something serious, and he could not afford to get caught.

Who'd be left to help Tsvetan if he was in prison?

Sighing, Alin racked his brains for somewhere else he could stay.

…

Yes, I know. This update is well overdue. What can I say? I had writer's block all half term then became desperate to write the moment school started again. Ain't life a bitch?

So, I've actually come up with a little idea for a sequel to this. Just curious, does anyone like this story enough to actually sit through a crappy sequel?


	12. Just hear me out

Alin quietly tapped on the back door, once more glancing around to see if anyone was watching. He didn't want to risk using a front door again, but now the man was starting to realise this was probably just as suspicious, maybe even more so. He was standing right up against the door in the evening shadows, trying to not get noticed until his knocking was answered. A few minutes of tapping later, Alin finally heard the sound of footsteps on hard floor and the lights flicker on before Katya finally opened the door. Tsvetan's old friend from college was dressed in a jumper with a long skirt and tights, worn out from a long day as a kindergarten teacher. He respected her, and hoped the young woman would be kind enough to let him stay, and not tell her brother either.

'Why are you usi- ALIN?' she gasped and took a step back, shaking her head, fear in her eyes, 'no, don't kill me too! I don't have anything for you!'

'What? Why would I?' Alin groaned; so she'd watched the news then, 'look, I never killed Tsve! Please, I need you help!'

'No get back!' she grabbed a wooden spoon off the kitchen counter and brandished it at him, 'I'll… I'll scream really loudly! Murderer!'

'Please, Katya,' Alin raised both hands in a gesture of surrender, trying desperately to think of any way to show her he meant no harm, 'I'm not going to hurt you. I just need someplace to hole up for a few days.'

'Stay back!' Katya ducked into the sitting room and ran for the phone, pressing a button and putting the thing to her ear. So she had her brother on speed dial?

Alin cursed and ran after her, 'please just hear me out!'

'Help, Vanya!' Katya moved so her dining table stood between her and Alin, who couldn't move around it without her running in the opposite direction, 'please, there's someone in my house attacking me! I can't get out and oh god it's the man who killed Tsvetan! Get help! He's going to kill me!' she was almost hysterical now, sobbing uncontrollably.

'No I did not!' hissed Alin, climbing onto the table and grabbing Katya's arm, 'look, I'd never hurt Tsve, or you! Please Katya; all I'm asking for is one minute to let me explain.'

Katya looked at him uneasily, but sighed and nodded, covering the mouthpiece of her phone with a hand, 'fine, one minute. After that I'm telling Vanya to come get me, and you know how scary he can get if his sisters are in danger.'

'Look, Tsvetan is not dead but has been abducted and injured and I'm trying to save him!' hissed Alin, 'I know it looks bad but I'd never wound him ever! In fact, I'm going to bring him home but to do that I need to collect ten thousand dollars in a week and I can't go home cause the cops are there and they think I'm the murderer which is why I'm here. Please, all I'm asking for is somewhere safe to stay while I raise the money.'

'You're not… a murderer?' began Katya.

'Course!' Alin grinned, 'do I look like a murderer to you?'

'Katya? KATYA?' Ivan's panicked voice came through the phone, 'please answer me sis are you okay? YEKATERINA BRAGINSKAYA PICK UP THE PHONE! Oh god, what have you done to her you bastards? She better not be injured or I will hunt you down and slaughter you where you stand!'

'Oh, hi Vanya,' Katya began speaking into the phone again.

'What's going on? Are you safe?'

Katya and Alin exchanged glances.

'Please,' he breathed, 'please believe me,'

'Of course! Sorry, I was watching a scary movie and my imagination took over,' she giggled, 'sorry to worry you. I'm fine!'

'Huh? But you sounded so frightened! Are you sure you're okay?' pressed Ivan, 'someone isn't forcing you to say these things, right? You're saying this out of your own free will.'

'No, no,' replied Yekaterina, 'everything's peachy!'

'If so say so…' Ivan still sounded unsure.

'I do! Goodbye then!' Yekaterina hung up the phone, but held it close, still not trusting Alin entirely. She looked at him with a slightly fearful expression, but nodded, silently compelling him to start talking. Alin nodded and climbed off the dining table.

'I understand how bad this looks,' he began, 'and I know what the police are saying, but I care way to much about Tsve to ever kill him! You have to believe me when I say he's the most important person in my life.'

'I see,' Yekaterina sighed, 'you said something about getting money for him…'

'Yes, I met with his kidnappers today; they told me to get together ten thousand pounds or they'd kill him,' Alin sat at the dining table and shook his head; 'I have no idea what to do. I've got a hundred and twenty bucks on me, that's all.'

'So how do you plan to get the ransom money?' asked Katya, sliding into the seat opposite him.

'Earning it, I guess, or asking people who know Tsve and me to donate,' Alin shrugged, 'well, that was the plan anyway. Now the whole state and police force are probably after me and everyone knows what I look like. If I go outside I'll be recognised and arrested. I don't know what to do about that.'

'We'll think of something,' Katya smiled reassuringly.

'You… you believe me?' Alin gave a small smile in return.

'Well, I just can't see you hurting Tsve like that,' admitted Katya, 'you two are as close as they come.'

'Thank you,'

'So, have you seen him?' asked Katya, avoiding his gaze.

Alin nodded, 'he's not good. They've… done terrible things to him. I'm not even sure if he'll recover physically, let alone mentally.'

'That's… that's just not right!' Katya shook her head, 'Tsve's a good man! Who's 'they', if a may ask?'

'Aleksander Jensen and Rose Kirkland,' Alin shuddered, 'old… acquaintances of mine whom I stole money from some time ago,' Katya opened her mouth to reply but Alin waved a hand, 'yes, yes, I know! Please, I've already heard it from others. It's all my fault he's in this mess and I'm a terrible, irresponsible piece of shit. I get it and I know.'

'I was going to say that I respect you so much for staying and trying to sort out your mess,' said Katya, 'normally, you'd be outta here as fast as you could, but you're actually staying to save Tsvetan? You're growing up, Alin Radacanu!'

'Well I'm twenty five,' reasoned Alin, 'it was bound to happen someday! And Tsve's pretty much all I have left now.'

'I believe in you,' Katya smiled warmly at him, 'you can save Tsve.'

'Thanks, I really needed that,'

'So, I guess we should start working on ideas tomorrow,' suggested Katya, 'I was thinking that we could fashion a little disguise for you. You know, maybe some hair dye and sunglasses. Or a wig.'

'Could work,' Alin shrugged, leaning back in the chair.

'Would you like something to eat?' offered Katya, 'I have some leftovers I could heat up for you.'

'Thanks but, I don't have much of an appetite anymore.'

'That bad, huh?' Katya raised an eyebrow.

'Huh? Oh, Tsve…' Alin sighed, 'he's in so much pain now, and frightened, really frightened. I'd give anything to go back in time and stop him walking out that door.'

'I know this will sound cheesy but, you can still change the future even if the past is unchangeable,' Katya chuckled.

'Yeah, you're right.'

There was a knock on the door and Alin yelped, diving under the table.

'Oh god your brother's here!' he hissed, 'he's gonna kill me and you know it! That prick's all bite first and ask questions later. Be a dear and explain the situation over my cold, dead body for me.'

'Don't be silly,' scoffed Katya, 'Vanya lives way across town; there's no way he'd have got here yet, if he's coming at all.'

'Then it's the police!'

'Or maybe one of my own friends,' Katya hinted, 'you know, cause I actually have a social life.'

'Oh, right,' Alin crawled out from under the table, 'gonna be prepared to run out the door anyway. You know, just to be safe.'

'Fair enough,' Katya wandered into the hall and Alin waited with baited breath. Was he about to find himself on the run yet again? There was a few moments silence, then Katya let out a piercing shriek.

…

Woo fast update! Hope I'm portraying Miss Ukraine okay; really hope so since she's my fave Hetalia girl.

Please please please review and stuff, and thank you to anyone who's already done so!


	13. Testimony and evidence

Alin grabbed a glass bottle off the coffee table and raced into the hall to find Yekaterina embracing another figure, he couldn't see them clearly, showering them with kisses. _What?_ He thought she was being attacked and now…

'I haven't seen you in ages!' she exclaimed, holding the person at arm's length. Now, Alin was able to see them clearly and found that the new arrival was… Eduard? As in, Eduard Von Brock who worked on computers by day and sand in clubs by night? More confused than ever, Alin took a step forward, still unnoticed by the pair.

'Sorry,' replied Eduard, 'I've been busy at work, both jobs, and my cousins were using me as an owl-'

Katya silenced him with a kiss; Alin decided to make his presence known.

'Hey you have a computer programmer on your face,' he stated, leaning against the radiator and smirking.

The couple yelped and wheeled round to face him.

'Oh it's okay; he's gone now,' Alin grinned.

'What the hell are _you_ doing here?' hissed Eduard.

'Katya let me in,' replied Alin.

'You let a _murderer_ into your house?' Eduard turned to face Katya with an expression of horror. Alin internally groaned; had no one stopped to question that report? Did no one think there was even the tiniest chance he was innocent? The young woman simply shut the door, locking it.

'Look, I don't think he killed anyone,' she replied simply, 'but Alin needs shelter and I said he could stay with me.'

'It's still crazy!' cried Eduard, 'have you seen this guy? Even if he didn't murder Tsvetan I wouldn't want him in my house!'

'Any friend of Tsvetan's is a friend of mine,' replied Katya firmly.

'Firstly, rude, very rude,' added Alin, 'and secondly, what do you think all those notes between your cousins were anyway?' Alin wrinkled his nose, 'we've all been trying to save Tsvetan!'

'He's still alive?' Eduard's eyebrows shot up.

'Only just,' Alin shuddered, 'look, how 'bout you sit down and I'll explain everything, okay?'

'I guess it couldn't hurt,' Eduard shrugged, 'Eli and Tino seem intent on keeping me in that dark on the matter, so it'd be nice to hear it straight from the horses' mouth.'

'Course,' Alin led Eduard into the sitting room and Katya sighed in relief, pushing any disappointment and annoyance down. Yes, she had planned to spend the evening alone with her- secret- boyfriend, but what could she do? A friend was in trouble and she could hardly turn him down. Still, it wasn't like she'd never have a chance to see Ed again. Katya started to follow the other two when she heard shouts from outside and only moments later someone pounding on the door.

'KATYA! LET ME IN THIS INSTANT!' screamed Ivan, 'PLEASE, TELL ME YOU'RE OKAY!'

'Oh,' Katya glanced at the sitting room nervously, _was it a wise idea to let her brother loose on those two?_

'IF SOMEONE DOESN'T OPEN THE DOOR I'LL BREAK IT DOWN!'

Yes it was.

'Calm down Vanya,' Yekaterina soothed, unlocking the door, 'I'm perfectly fine, see?'

'Oh thank goodness!' Ivan pulled his sister into a crushing hug, 'I thought you'd been killed or hurt!' he held her at arms' length, gazing at her with worried eyes, 'you… are okay, right?' Katya glanced out the door to find her brother's car, parked right outside her garden, on the sidewalk even, had branches and mud in the wheels. He ruined his nice car just to get to her quickly?

Katya chuckled, 'yes, I'm fine. Don't worry so much about me.'

'I can't help it!' protested Ivan, 'you and Natalya are my family! It's bad enough my little sister's avoiding me without you having troubles too.'

'I see,' Katya sighed, 'Talya's still not telling you what's wrong then?'

'No,' Ivan's face fell.

'Well, thank you for stopping by,' Katya giggled nervously, 'but it's getting late; don't you think you should be heading over to your club or home or-'

'You're hiding something,' Ivan stated it as if it were a fact.

'What? No-'

'You are my sister and I know when you're lying,' Ivan's face grew darker, 'what have you done now? Please, if you're in trouble, just say.'

'There's nothing-'

Ivan pushed past her and stormed into the living room. Katya cursed and followed.

'Okay, who else is in here?' he demanded, walking around the room. Katya stood in the doorway and glanced around nervously but there was no one else in the room. _Where were Alin and Eduard?_

Ivan sighed and looked under the table, 'you know, you two would be _awful_ at hide and seek,' he commented, laughing childishly.

'Shit!' cried a voice from under the table, earning a glare from Ivan.

'Radacanu?' he growled.

'Before you say anything, I didn't murder him!' Alin crawled out, closely followed by Eduard, and stood up to his full height, trying and failing to intimidate Ivan, 'you said it yourself you didn't think I done it!'

'A week ago, yes,' agreed Ivan, 'but now, when there is so much evidence against you…'

'What evidence?' scoffed Alin.

'Well, there's Hera's testimony,' began Ivan, 'and they found a knife in your apartment.' He grabbed Alin by the collar and lifted the man up, 'and now you show your sorry face in my sister's home, give some bullshit story and plan to kill her off too?'

'What are you talking about?' cried Alin, 'what knife? Heracles was the one who grassed?'

'Don't play dumb,' growled Ivan, 'it said on the news they found a knife with Tsvetan's blood hidden in your apartment. All that's left is to find his body.'

'What? Oh god, the real abductors put that in there! It was probably to scare me or something and now the cops have found it!' protested Alin, 'I haven't been back to my house since this morning! They had plenty of time to plant it there.'

'I thought you said you were with the people who took Tsve all morning,' Katya pointed out.

'Yeah, but just the morning,' explained Alin, 'they still had a chance to do it while I was wandering around the town thinking.' Or they told Natalya to do it while I was talking to them, Alin realised, that's why they asked her to leave! It must have been pre-planned to either frame him or just shock him. Of course, Alin couldn't explain that to everyone. He was pretty sure Natalya wouldn't appreciate him telling her siblings what she was being forced to do, if they believed him at all.

'Don't buy it,' Ivan wrinkled his nose.

'Well it's the truth!' Alin struggled under Ivan's grip, but couldn't break free, 'why would I hurt Tsve? He's my friend! Heck, he's pretty much my entire world! I know who took him and I've met with them and I have a plan to get Tsve back, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't break my bones or whatever you do to people you hate.'

A flicker of doubt spread across Ivan's face, 'you… know who took him?'

'Yes, old 'friends' of mine, it's a long story,'

'I see,' Ivan set Alin down and ruffled his hair, 'ah fine, I believe you're innocent, for now anyway.'

'Great!' Alin fell silent for a moment, then frowned, 'Hera told the cops I was a killer?'

Ivan shrugged, 'he was worried,' he explained, 'the one time you showed up to his place, you seemed odd to him, distant and guilt-ridden were his exact words. Then you disappeared and Tsvetan still hadn't turned up and he thought the kid was long dead and you had something to do with it. He was scared you would hurt someone else he cared about, so tipped the police off as to where you lived. That's all he did, give your address. The cops already pegged you as the main suspect.'

'I see…' Alin couldn't be mad at Heracles; the man had done what he thought was right and Alin didn't blame him… much. Yes, he was a little annoyed, but there were more important things to worry about.

'Now,' began Eduard, 'can we please hear the story from the beginning?'

'Of course,' everyone sat down at the dining table and Alin recounted everything that had happened over the past three weeks, from Tsvetan storming out to the meeting with Jensen and Kirkland. The three listened closely, and by the end not even Ivan had dry eyes.

'They… did what to him?' whispered Katya, covering her mouth with her hand.

'You heard me,' Alin looked at the table miserably, pulling at his gloves just to give his hands something to do.

'So, you have a week to get the money?' repeated Ivan.

'Uh-huh,' Alin nodded.

'I'll… I'll start a collection at my club,' Ivan assured him, 'to raise as much as I can. I am pretty sure everyone will donate generously.' There was a slightly sinister edge to that last sentence, but everyone chose to ignore it.

'Thank you, I'd really appreciate that,' Alin gave a weak smile and the room fell into silence.

'I've been meaning to ask for a while now, but what are _you_ doing here?' Ivan demanded, pointing accusingly at Eduard.

'Me? I- err-' Eduard glanced around nervously, desperately trying to come up with an excuse.

'He was returning my laptop,' Katya jumped in, 'I got a virus on it a few days ago and he took it to remove the virus. Thank you again for fixing my computer,' she added to Eduard, smiling sweetly.

'No problem at all,' Eduard pushed his glasses up his face, smiling bashfully.

'Seriously, sis, you're a terrible liar,' Ivan groaned, 'so why is he really here?'

'Well…'

'Yes?'

'I… he's my boyfriend!'

Silence. Ivan seemed to be taking some time to comprehend what his sister had told him. Finally, he spoke up, voice cracking, 'you- you're dating… my sister?'

'Yes,' admitted Eduard, 'but… you have to believe me when I say I care about Katya very much!'

'You're…' Ivan shook his head in disbelief.

'Vanya,' warned Katya, 'I'm a grown woman and can make my own decisions.'

'I know, but_ Eduard Von Brock_?'

'You don't have to be so rude,' scoffed Eduard, 'I mean, who would you rather have staying in your sister's home: me or _that_?' he pointed at Alin, who let out an offended cry.

'Radacanu's relationship with that little Bulgarian boy's always been shady enough that I don't have to worry about him being around Katya.'

'Actually, I'm bi- you know what? Never mind…' Alin trailed off, deciding to stay out of the conversation the best he could.

'_Vanya_,' warned Katya.

'Fine, fine,' Ivan raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, 'you have my blessing. But be warned,' he added, looming over Eduard, 'if you do anything, anything at all, to hurt my precious sister in any way, I will personally shove a cactus so far up your rear end you'll have needles coming out your ears.'

'I understand perfectly,' Eduard assured him, 'and don't worry, I… well… I care for Yekaterina too much to ever hurt her.'

'Good.'

Alin chuckled, 'oh man, that mental image though!'

'That same applies to you if you do anything to upset Katya while you're staying here,' Ivan threatened.

'Yes, sir,' Alin gave a salute, then rolled his eyes the second Ivan turned away.

'Well,' he began, 'I suppose it is time for me to leave now, huh? That bar isn't going to run itself, and I don't want Francis and Toris to worry about me.'

'Oh, about that…' Eduard trailed off.

'Yes, you may have the night off,' Ivan gave a sweet smile, 'you've been working almost non stops these past weeks so you deserve some time off to rest and regain your strength, as I am sure you will be doing.'

'Thank you,'

Ivan nodded and stood up.

'I'll see you to the door,' Katya jumped up and followed her brother.

'So…' once the siblings had left, Alin began picking at a thread in his jacket, 'Katya, huh? When did you two get together?'

'A few months ago,' explained Eduard, 'I'd just finished a shift at Ivan's club and Katya was there. She asked me to walk her home and I did, and, well, I just asked her on a date, blurted it out, really. I was so embarrassed and apologized immediately… but she said yes! Can you believe it?'

'No,'

'Well it's the truth. We started dating after that,' Eduard's fingers drummed against the table.

'And do you love her?' asked Alin.

'That's a very personal question.'

'Oh, right… so do you?'

Eduard sighed, giving a small smile, 'I don't know yet…maybe, yes, fine yes! But it's too early for me to be telling her that.'

'Right, right,' the pair lapsed into silence and Katya re-entered the room.

'So it seems I have two overnight guests,' she stated joyfully, 'oh, Alin, let me get you some pyjamas; I think I have a set of some that Ivan grew out of somewhere.'

'Long sleeves, please,' requested Alin.

'I'll see what I can do.'

…

Okay, once again I am sorry for the long delay between chapters, but I had trouble with the words… again.

Please leave feedback as I'm not sure if I'm getting everyone in character and all. And I'm sorry to those who don't like Estonia/Ukraine.


	14. Phobia

Alin lay on his back in the dark, gazing up at the blank ceiling, the only sound being his slow steady breathing. Moonlight drifted in through the curtains, so he could make out most of the objects around him, and every time a car drove past a dull, yellow beam would sweep across, almost as if it was scanning him. He was wrapped up in a warm duvet in Ivan's old bedroom. It was strange, seeing the place where the man had grown up as a kid and teen, and Alin had wasted no time in snooping around the moment Katya had said goodnight and shut the door. What? He was only human!

Alin liked the walls best. Either Ivan or Katya (or possibly Natalya) was an exceptional artist because the walls were covered in a massive painting of a sunflower field. It spanned all four walls and Alin had just sat on the floor, taking in the detail, the colours used, the golds, greens, blues, captured by a sweeping brush and cast his mind back to when he was a child. His father was a motor enthusiast, and loved driving the whole family for day trips on the beach, if only so he could clean his car before and after. Alin remembered sitting in the back with his little brother, Andrei, and staring out the window as they whizzed past fields of not only sunflowers, but all different crops and plans, as well as the occasional house or village. The sun was always shining, that's probably why they were heading to the seashore, and he could almost hear him and his brother laughing, buckets and spades on their laps.

Alin wrinkled his nose and pushed the memory out of his mind, turning on his side, and picking at his- well, Ivan's- pyjama sleeve. He knew it was a bad habit, especially when the pyjamas weren't his to begin with, but couldn't help it. He always picked at his clothing when he was nervous. Especially around others, when he was afraid of his sleeves riding up.

He was glad the pyjamas were long sleeved though, very glad, even if they probably weren't intended to be. It was bad enough he'd worn his suspenders with them all evening (what? Those things were way too big for him!). Still, Eduard got a good laugh out of it.

Alin had to admit it was nice spending the evening with the couple. Katya and Ed were good company and they'd laughed, joked and watched TV together. Heck, they'd even brought out snacks and a bottle of wine (Alin ate about half the food himself but refused to touch the drink, opting for water instead) snuggled up on the sofa in pyjamas and slippers before calling it a night at around nine thirty.

Alin wished Tsvetan had been there.

Alin wished Tsvetan was still holding out, still surviving despite the appalling conditions he was facing. Alin let another wave of guilt wash over him, holding back more tears. He'd been silently crying on and off for the past few hours and didn't want to start that again.

But it was just so unfair.

Here he was, wrapped up warm and well fed whilst Tsvetan… well, it was best not to think of _that_ too much. Alin wanted, more than anything, to trade places, to have Tsvetan safe at his friend's house. Why was that too much to ask? Why were innocent people being dragged into Alin's mess? Alin's _past_ mess. Life would be so much easier if the past kept its ugly head buried forever, leaving the future and future alone to guide everyone along.

Alin growled and kicked the covers off of him. That attic at Aleks and Rose's house was freezing; Tsvetan must be freezing so Alin would just have to be too. It wouldn't help in any way, Alin knew, but it made him feel slightly less guilty. Only slightly though.

He let out a frustrated cry and shot up.

Why? Why the hell was this happening to them?

He looked up at the ceiling again, praying silently. _A week, that's all I ask. Please, let Tsve hold on for one more week. I cannot loose him now._

Alin wished once more that he'd realised just how important Tsvetan was to him.

After all, it was Tsvetan who helped him to overcome his phobia. Tsvetan who helped him to function.

He gave a humourless chuckle, pulling back the sleeves on the pyjamas and taking off his gloves. Yes, they were still there. Why wouldn't they be? They'd never leave.

He stared down at the ugly, red and white scars running along both arms, and partially on his hands too, staining and distorting the skin. His skin was dry and waxy, covered in scarlet blotches.

He'd had them since childhood, since he made that stupid mistake.

He'd only been seven at the time. It had been Saturday morning and he was the only one awake. Standing in the kitchen, rubbing his eyes tiredly, he'd decided to make breakfast for everyone, then he'd wake up Andrei and they'd go into their parents' room together and the four of them could have breakfast in bed together.

Well, that had been the plan.

Alin couldn't remember much, what with the shock of it and he'd only been a kid at the time. But the pan he'd been using caught fire. Had he used too much oil or had the gas on too high? It didn't matter anyway. All that mattered was that he'd been terrified, but still tried to fix it, like a good child. Maybe if he'd been older, or knew anything about health and safety, he'd have done the right thing and covered the pan in a damp cloth. But no, he'd poured a jug of water onto it, and a simple fire had turned into a raging, spitting inferno.

The fireball- that's what everyone called it later- engulfed both arms, and even licked against his face and clothes.

He didn't remember being in any pain, funnily enough, but, as he gaped in horror at his charred arms, he screamed, cried out for his parents to save him. And they did.

Again, his memories were fuzzy, but his father called the emergency services whilst his mother dragged him and his brother out of the house and poured water on his burns. She draped a blanket over his shoulders, fighting back tears whilst Andrei wailed, only two but knowing when his bog brother was hurt, and sang to calm them both down. There was a ride in an ambulance too… rushing into the hospital was a blur… half conscious by then, could only focus on his arms, white tissue surrounded by charred, blackened, waxy skin.

The doctor told him they were third degree burns as he cleaned and dressed them, then offered him medicine to take away the pain, telling him how brave he was. He stayed in hospital overnight, to make sure the burns didn't get infected, and that was that. He was sent home, after the doctor instructed his parents on how to change the dressing, and that was that.

They managed to save his face and chest from scarring, but his arms would be a permanent reminder of his own ignorance and stupidity.

He could never go in the kitchen when someone was using the stove again. Just the very mention of fire could reduce him to tears and, after he moved to the states, he could no longer have hot food as his parents weren't there to cook it for him.

One day he'd come home to find Tsvetan cooking eggs, and had a panic attack. His friend had managed to calm him down, and once Alin was able to, he had told Tsvetan everything. Why not? For some reason, Alin had found it impossible to lie to Tsvetan over the years. He could hide things, avoid subjects, but not tell him a full blown lie to his face.

Tsvetan had still been at collage then, and jumped at the change to test his knowledge in the psychodynamics. The pair had therapy sessions, where over time Tsvetan managed to help him overcome most of his fear. They talked, did brain exercises, and delved into Alin's past. Tsvetan explained that, whilst pan-fires were unfortunately quite common, you could avoid them if you knew what you were doing. Tsvetan guided gave demonstrations on how to avoid pan-fires and, eventually, Alin was cooking for the first time.

Whilst Alin could stand to be around a small, controlled fire, the idea of wild, open flames terrified him to the very core. Feral, brutal fire that ripped though you with its soft claws, surrounding and engulfing everything that stood in his path. Alin felt his breathing quicken and he looked around, panic rising. He had to remind himself that he was safe, there was no fire and there was no need for fear.

That would not be the case with Tsvetan.

Oh how Alin wished he knew enough about psychology to help Tsvetan with his own phobias in return. They could never afford a therapist, so Tsvetan was stuck being afraid of the dark. Not to say Alin didn't try, though. He bought his friend little nightlights, and batteries for them, on every occasion and the pair had managed to get to the source of his fear.

Apparently, when Tsvetan was a child and the family still growing, they had moved from a flat to a larger house and, on the day of moving, Tsvetan had decided to see if his, now empty, toy cupboard was large enough for him to fit in. It was. In fact, it was large enough that he closed the door and accidentally locked himself inside. Tsvetan had been terrified that his family would leave without him and he'd starve, trapped in the little cupboard for the next family to find. His own family found him, of course, but not before he'd worked himself up into complete hysteria.

Sometimes, when Tsvetan was feeling particularly uneasy, they'd share a bed. Not the most comfy situation, seeing as they both had single beds, and they both had their annoying habits, but it was nice.

Alin felt a rush of affection spread through his chest. Tsvetan was everything to him. They were everything to each other. It was funny, Alin couldn't even tell what kind of affection it was. It confused the hell out of him. He was almost certain that what he felt was different to simple friendship. Sure, Alin had slept with a fair few people, both sexes, and even had full blown relationships with some of them, but he had never got his heart involved too. It was too risky. But now?

Then again, of all the people in the word, Tsvetan was the most deserving of anyone's love. It was just Alin who felt he could not be loved back.

It was startling, frightening, and Alin didn't know what to do. Yes, he was in love with Tsvetan and, it would seem, had been so for a while now, but Tsvetan deserved better. There was nothing else for it. Alin would save Tsvetan, get him back on his feet, pay for a professional therapist to get him half sane again, then leave. Just go far away where he could never hurt anyone he cared for again.

Yes, Alin like that plan.

All he had to do now was raise to money to pay for Tsvetan Borisov's life.

…

Sorry if this seemed a bit late, but I had to do a fair bit of researching. So, enjoying the story so far? Any advice?


	15. Disguise

'We need to get you a disguise,' Katya frowned, placing both hands on her hips. It was quarter to seven in the morning and the young woman stood over her two overnight guests, who were sprawled on the sofa, none too pleased about being woken up so early. Ed looked tired, but pleased, wrapped up in a dressing gown and slippers whilst Alin felt drained from his sleepless night. He saw in a mirror that his hair was dishevelled and there were bags under his eyes.

But there were things to do!

'What kind?' Alin knew she was right. He probably had the whole city on the lookout for him. if he was going to raise money for Tsvetan's release, it would not be as himself.

'Don't know yet,' Katya shrugged, 'I phoned an expert earlier and he's coming round with come clothes and a packet of hair dye for you.'

'Expert?' Alin wrinkled his nose, 'it better not be old man Vargas' rude little fuck of a grandson. I don't care how much of a fashion-specialist-guy he is.'

'Who? Lovi?' Katya shook her head, 'no, I meant Toni.'

'Oh good,' they waited in silence for a few moments, Alin once more retorting to picking at his sleeves.

There was a knock on the door and Katya bounced out of the room to answer it, returning a few minutes later with Antonio, arms laden with bin-bags full of clothes.

'So,' he began, 'you're innocent, huh?'

'That's already old news,' Alin waved a hand airily.

'Thought as much,' Antonio dumped the bags down and pulled out a small cardboard box covered in blond portraits, 'might as well get straight to business. First: hair dye!'

'Blond?' Alin took the box and wrinkled his nose, 'are you serious? When have you ever seen a blond Romanian?'

'Exactly!' cried Toni, 'we're trying to make you _not_ match the descriptions in the news, right?'

'But I like my brown hair,' Alin pouted, 'will it even change colour? It's pretty dark! Besides, the second I open my mouth, everyone's gonna know I'm not American!'

'Well people will just think it's a random accent,' reasoned Toni, 'now get in the bathroom! We could probably trim and neaten your hair while we're at it.'

'Oh I can hardly wait,' muttered Alin.

…

'This is every shade of wrong,' Alin glared at his reflection, still not used to his new hair.

'Hey I worked hard!' cried Toni, 'oh, and everyone keep an eye on him in case he has an allergic reaction and explodes or something. Shame there's no time to actually test it, but you have to wait a few days for that. Maybe I should have read the instructions more carefully.'

'How is this guy a professional?' Alin asked Katya, who shrugged.

'He was the first person who came to mind.'

'Oh,' Alin groaned, resting his forehead on the mirror.

'Now,' Eduard clapped his hands, 'on to clothes, right?'

'Of course!' Toni began pulling a shirt and pants from his bag, 'I picked these cause they seemed to be something you wouldn't wear.'

'Are they things _anyone_ would wear?' Alin raised his eyebrow at the shirt. It was an ugly hot-pink and neon-green striped, ruffled affair, 'where did you even get it?'

'Charity shop,' Toni shrugged, 'wore it at a fancy-dress party once and it's been hiding in my closet ever since.'

'They must have seen you coming a mile off when they sold you that. So you're just looking for an excuse to get rid of your old outfits?' demanded Alin.

'Two birds, one stone.'

'I'm not wearing it,'

'Okay, how about borrowing some of _my _clothes,' suggested Katya.

'That could work,' replied Alin, 'our hair's about the same length and it might be fun to be a girl for a bit.'

'Great,' Katya clapped her hands, 'I'll just get a dress, tights, razors, makeup a bra and lots of tissue paper. Oh, watch out for the tissue paper; it itches real bad.'

There was a pause before Alin spoke again, 'oh just give me the damn shirt; I don't have the strength to be a woman!'

'That's better,' Toni grinned and handed over the wretched shirt, black pants and a pair of sunglasses, 'to hide your unusual eyes'.

'Now go get dressed whilst I think up an excuse not to go into work,' Katya waved a hand; 'I think you'll be needing all the help you can get.'

'You'll do that for me?' Alin gave a small smile.

'It's Friday,' Katya shrugged, 'the kids won't even notice I'm gone.'

'Thanks guys,' Alin grinned sheepishly.

'That's okay,' replied Ed, 'now go put on your disguise!'

…

'I don't know why you're bothering,' Tsvetan glared at the man in front of him, 'Alin will be long gone by now. Probably on a plane to a different country as we speak. What makes you think he cares about me at all?'

Aleksander Jensen glared at him, leaning back in his chair. The pair were in the attic Tsvetan was being held. Light shifted in through the grimy windows, throwing shadows across the room. Every morning, Aleksander would visit, just to torment him, to injure him some more. Rose hardly ever visited, but when she did… well, Tsvetan didn't care to reflect on that.

'I wouldn't be so sure,' the man replied, 'I believe Rose and I left you both long enough for him to develop some moral conscience. His guilt will bring him crawling back.'

'Heh,' Tsvetan gave a humourless chuckle; he still wasn't scared of Aleks, no matter what happened to him, 'I know hi-'

'You foolish little man,' Aleksander stood up, leaning over Tsvetan, 'you've not known him as long as we have,'

'That doesn't matter,' Tsvetan shrugged as best he could through the ropes binding him, 'he's changed since you last saw him! He's good now! Not good enough to stay but-'

'You've never seen him at his worst,' continued Aleks, 'I've seen him when he was furious, uncontrollable, and full of murderous hatred.'

'That's not Alin,' Tsvetan whispered, not daring to believe such things about his friend, 'he's kind! He wouldn't…' _hurt anyone?_

Aleks laughed, 'what? You thought he was some harmless little eccentric?' Tsvetan didn't- couldn't- answer that. 'Oh please,' Aleks scoffed, 'he was maiming and killing while you still sat in school reading. He could wield a knife, carve people up, disfigure and mar before you'd had your first kiss!'

'He's changed!' Tsvetan yelped when a fist collided with his right eye, but he didn't cower.

He was done being scared of these people.

'What you're doing isn't fair!' he cried, 'why are you hurting people for no reason?'

'Fair?' Aleksander's eyes turned cold, 'want to know what's not fair? Seeing your little brother lying in hospital! You've never had someone close to you pass away, huh, Borisov? You've never held their hand as they slipped into the other world!'

Tsvetan was silent for a moment. Aleksander growled, drawing a knife and pressing it to his prisoner's throat.

'Have you?' he growled.

'N-no,' Tsvetan admitted.

'Didn't think so,' Aleksander walked slowly to the other side of the room, 'so don't talk to me about 'fair'. Why should you get away when Erikur couldn't? why should anyone live when he couldn't?' he paused for a moment, regarding the young man with interest, 'it's pathetic, you know. Your silly little feelings.'

'Don't we all have those at some point? I feel many things every day.'

'I mean your feelings for the Romanian,' clarified Aleksander, 'that's why you say he'll run away: because you want him to. You want him to be safe and don't care for your own life. Feeble, wretched, pathetic,' he practically spat the last word.

'Not really,' Tsvetan gave a small smile, 'better to want people protected than damaged.' He closed his eyes and felt a knife whizz past his face, missing him by inches, and felt his confidence diminish.

'He'll come crawling back,' Aleksander predicted, 'and without your money too. It's quite easy to track his next move. Shame, he used to be interesting, entertaining.'

'He'll get the damn money,' Tsvetan growled. Why did Aleksander do this? Just come up to his attic and taunt him. What good could it possibly do?

'I really, really doubt that,' Aleksander gave a minute, knowing smile.

'Why? You and Kirkland would rather have a dead body instead of money?' Tsvetan raised his eyebrows, and flinched when Aleks wandered over and patted the side of his face.

'My dear boy,' he purred, 'that's exactly what we want.'

…

Not much to say here, except sorry for not updating much and please leave feedback!


	16. Fooling the crowd

'How exactly are we gonna make money?' Alin looked around at the other three expectantly, 'I don't have anything to sell; suitcase and stock are back in my apartment.' Alin, Eduard, Katya and Antonio were standing in the same swarming, busy market Alin and Tsvetan frequented, hidden between a clothes stall and a guy selling hot dogs from his van. The smell of onions, leather, burgers, old books and donuts filled his nose, a surprisingly comforting scent. It gave him a sense of familiarity, as if things were almost back to normal.

Ha, normal. Alin wondered what that even meant to him anymore.

'What about your magic?' suggested Antonio.

Alin shrugged, 'all that's gone too. Don't even have a deck of cards.' He pulled up the collar of the long, purple coat Katya had provided to keep out the cold so that his neck was protected from the crisp breeze. It wasn't that chilly, if Alin was completely honest with himself, but he still found his outfit a little embarrassing.

'Hmm,' Antonio scratched his chin, 'hold on a moment,' he ducked past them and disappeared into the mass of shoppers, the guitar case on his back acting like the periscope of a submarine.

'So what now?' Alin asked.

'We could try busking,' suggested Eduard, cleaning his glasses with his scarf.

'Can anyone here sing?' Alin glanced from Eduard to Katya, who both grinned.

'Do you know how many karaoke awards we've won in our time?' boasted Eduard.

'No I fuckin' don't,'

'Many,' Eduard chuckled, shaking his head, 'anyway, since Antonio has his guitar, we could try that.'

'Sure, why not?' Alin shrugged, grinning. Him and Tsvetan loved singing together and would belt out whatever songs came on their little, cheap radio that sat in their kitchen and sing along to every musical they watched. Alin himself wasn't the best, but Tsvetan could hit all the right notes; singing seemed to be something he was born to do. If his life had been different, Tsvetan could've become a famous singer, earning millions. The young man felt a pang in his chest at the loss of his friend; would Tsvetan ever sing again? Would he be able to bring himself to?

Alin pushed those thoughts out of his head, now was not the time for upsetting himself, and put on a grin.

'Shall we wait for Toni?' he asked.

'That would seem logical,' replied Eduard, 'he'd only get lost if we moved and we can't do anything without him.'

'We might want to plan for next week though,' suggested Katya, 'we all have jobs, you know.'

'I'm aware,' Alin rolled his eyes.

'So from Monday onwards you're on your own,' she warned, 'I can't let my kids down by not turning up.'

'Understood,'

'And Ed and Toni have work too,'

'They work night shifts,' Alin pointed out, 'so would be free during the day, right?'

'Yes but I have to sleep sometime you know,' Eduard reminded him.

'Oh, right,' Alin grinned, 'on my own, huh? Don't really like the sound of that… still, only four days.'

'You'll be fine,' Katya assured him, rubbing his upper arm soothingly.

'Cheers,' Alin blushed slightly, looking away.

'Hey I'm back!' Antonio ducked into their little hiding place, proudly holding up a small deck of cards, 'got these for you!'

'Wow thanks,' Alin took the packet and ripped the plastic covering off, then opened the box and allowed the cards to spill into his hand. He shuffled them, rifled through them, got used to the feel of them in his hands. His fingers danced through the deck, taking in every detail, their new, plastic-y smell, the sound they made when he ran his forefinger across their edges, a sea of red, black and white. Yes, it felt good to have his ability to do magic tricks back again. It made him feel powerful, mysterious, and that he would be able to manipulate people again. He liked doing that. Tricking people. Fooling people. Not the ones who were trying to help him, of course, just the ones who would only be of use when fooled. And by that he meant he would make people believe he was a magician again, in order to get money from them. Money for Tsvetan's freedom and life.

'This… this means a lot to me,' he told Antonio, and truly meant it, 'here, let me show you how I made a living with these.' He flashed a wicked grin, and was about to walk into the street when Katya stopped him.

'Couldn't we do the singing first?' she requested, 'I mean, I've only got until Monday, right? And you have all week to do the magic tricks,' she looked away, blushing, 'you can still show off your card tricks, but… I've never sung for money before, and I want to see how people like my voice.'

'Course,' Alin grinned, wrapping his arm around her neck, 'stick with me and your dreams will come true!'

He slipped the deck into his coat pocket; the cards could wait.

…

'You'd think there'd be at least one song all four of us know,' Alin whined, crouching down behind the box Antonio was sitting on. The young Spaniard and Katya were singing a duet of some romantic song from a movie Alin hadn't seen, and never planned to. Eduard was sprawled next to him, eating a chicken kebab. Apparently, it was lunch time for him and Eduard liked to stick to his schedule.

'Hey we all have different tastes,' the computer programmer shrugged, 'and we're pretty much limited to what Antonio knows on the guitar anyway.'

'True,' Alin sighed blissfully, closing his eyes to focus on the music and laughter and chatter, at peace for a moment, 'he's pretty good-lookin',' Alin commented, glancing back at Antonio, 'do you think people would pay just to stare at him for a bit?'

Eduard laughed. 'Maybe. Are you suggesting we whore him out?'

'If we have to,' Alin replied jokingly.

'I doubt it'll come to that,' Eduard thought for a moment, 'maybe we should split up.'

'This isn't Scooby doo,' Alin shot back.

'No, honestly,' Eduard sighed, 'I'm sure between you and Antonio you can raise a fair bit by yourselves. Maybe Katya and I could collect money elsewhere.'

'I dunno,' Alin shrugged, 'yes, you make a good point and it'd be the smart thing to do, but I don't wanna be left alone with Toni. He's way better lookin' than me; at least if you're around I don't feel as insecure.'

'Excuse me you little-'

'I was joking!' cried Alin, laughing, 'what I mean to say is if I was to do a few magic tricks later, I'd be far more comfortable with Katya as my assistant instead of Antonio. May you can take him and raise more money and I'll stay here with Katya. She seems happy here anyway.'

Eduard stared at him with an expression of disbelief; 'if you think for one moment I'd leave my girlfriend with the likes of _you_, you have another thing coming.'

'How very rude and offending,' Alin pouted, 'I'm perfectly trustworthy. And besides, after this is all over I plan to engage in a monogamous relationship with a certain young Bulgarian, if he'll take me. Which he probably won't…' Alin sighed, suddenly feeling down, 'so I'm not going to try to steal Katya from you.'

'I see,' Eduard was silent for a moment, 'so… you really do care for him _that_ way then?'

'Yeah, you're not grossed out or anything-?'

'You've met my cousin and his husband, right?' Eduard raised an eyebrow, 'I love Tino as much as the rest of my family and adore Berwald and their children. I'm not as judgemental as you think I am.'

'Right, sorry.'

'Still not leaving you alone with Katya,'

'I don't fancy her!' exclaimed Alin.

'It's not that,' Eduard seemed to be choosing his words carefully, 'it's just you seem to radiate bad luck and everyone around you gets affected. And I'm worried Katya would get hurt if I'm not at least nearby. I mean, look at what happened with Tsvetan…'

'Low, but you're right,' Alin sighed, 'it's just, being my assistant would involve wit, and I don't think Toni has much of that. Besides, he'd also need to be a lookout, and that involves a lot of awareness.'

'Oh give him a chance,' Eduard rolled his eyes, 'Toni's not an idiot.'

'What's this?' Antonio turned around and sat down, resting his guitar on his lap.

'Here, look,' Alin growled at Eduard before turning to Antonio, 'I bet I can make you turn your hands over without touching you.'

'Oh I know that trick,' Antonio grinned, 'Jan and Eva taught it to me. You ask someone to hold their hands out and go 'no, I meant the other way' so they'll turn their hands around.'

'Dammit,' Alin groaned as Eduard burst out laughing.

'I told you he wasn't an idiot,' the computer programmer hissed.

Alin just shrugged, 'sorry. It's just Toni's always cheerful and over the years I've come to realise happy people are either stupid or hiding something.'

'Right,' Eduard rolled his eyes, 'so how did you two songbirds do? Sorry I wasn't able to offer my vocal chords, but I wasn't familiar with the songs you two were singing.'

'I don't think it would've mattered,' Antonio sighed, 'we didn't make much. Well, people threw a lot of spare change and cheered, but that's all it was,' he shrugged, 'came to about five dollars fifty.'

'That all?' Alin felt a cold dread staring to rise inside of him; there was no way they'd raise enough in a week.

'It's a start, and we won't be earning all the money this way,' Katya assured him, 'we'll manage, trust me.'

'Cheers,' Alin flashed her a grin.

'If the worst come to worst,' continue Katya, 'I could always just get my jugs out.'

Eduard blushed, 'well, if you're offering…' he said jokingly.

'Ah that won't be necessary, Katya,' Alin butted in, 'but thanks for the offer,'

Katya giggled, 'glad I could cheer you up.'

'Why would people pay to see jugs?' asked Antonio, 'they're just big glasses.'

'No, Toni, she means-'

'Now that I think about it,' continued Antonio, 'we could always sell drinks to people. You know, set up a little lemonade stall here or something.'

'You know,' Alin rubbed his chin, 'that's not actually a bad idea. Not a bad idea at all…'

'Maybe we could sell food as well,' added Antonio, 'I'm not too bad with an oven, and Francis can help too. And our food will definitely be better than the rest of the stuff here.'

'In what way?' asked Eduard cynically.

'It won't have a good chance of giving you food poisoning,' exclaimed Antonio, 'market food is always dodgy.'

'I wish you'd mentioned that before I bought a donor kebab and fries,' mumbled Eduard, throwing the empty package in a nearby bin. Antonio grinned apologetically and Eduard shook his head, 'anyway, shall we split up?' he asked Antonio and Katya, 'I was thinking that Alin and Toni will be fine here for a while longer. Maybe we could try asking everyone we know for donations, huh, Katya?'

'But I'm having so much fun here!' she whined.

'We'll be back tomorrow,' Eduard assured her, 'it's just I think Alin might break down if we don't collect more than five dollars today.'

'Fair enough,' Katya dusted herself down and stood up, 'see ya then.'

'Goodbye,' Antonio waved enthusiastically, 'nice singing with ya!'

'And you!' Katya pulled Eduard to his feet and the couple disappeared into the crowd. Alin stretched, turning to Antonio.

'Know anything about card tricks?' he asked, yawning.

'Not much,' Antonio admitted.

'Never mind,' Alin shrugged, 'don't need much knowledge to be my assistant. Tsvetan managed alright, though he was kind of a shitty lookout.'

'What are we meant to be looking out for?' Antonio enquired.

'Cops,' replied Alin, 'though that was mainly when we were selling things that were stolen. Can't get arrested for performing street magic, right?'

'Right,'

'So,' Alin tied his now blond hair into a little ponytail in an attempt to disguise it further, 'want to make people believe in magic?'

…

'Now I'll need a volunteer from the audience,' Alin told the gathered crowd, scanning the area for Antonio. Sure enough, the young man was amongst his audience, as planned, 'ah,' he called, pointing at his assistant, 'you'll do!' Antonio stepped forward, pretending to be excited at being called up. Then again, knowing Antonio, he was probably genuinely excited about being part of the performance. _Just like Tsvetan was the first few times_, Alin added, cursing his own morbid thoughts.

'Now, I want you to pick a card, any card,' Alin spread the deck out, faces down, in his gloved hands, 'look at it without showing me, and show the audience too,' Antonio did as instructed, grinning like a small child, 'now put it back in the deck.' When Antonio had tucked it in amongst the others, Alin shuffled them, swinging his arms behind his back to shuffle again, then blowing gently on the deck before taking the top one and holding it to Antonio's eyes.

'Ten of clubs; that your card?'

'Si!' cried Antonio, snatching the card and holding it up for the audience to see, 'would you look at that?'

Most of the audience cheered, but a few looked cynical.

'How'd ya do it?' one kid yelled.

'It's all fake,' their father replied, 'probably wasn't even a real volunteer.'

'Piss off!' Alin called back, 'it's all genuine!'

'Yeah right,'

'I can assure you I've never seen this gentleman before in my life,' Alin continued, 'right, sir?'

'Course we haven't, Al,' replied Antonio, grin instantly replaced by a look of horror when he realised what he'd done. The crowd groaned, hurling abuse at the pair before dispersing. Alin watched in despair before turning on his friend.

'Come here,' he said calmly, beckoning with a finger.

Antonio shook his head, 'I'm sorry!'

'What the fuck is wrong with you?' Alin growled.

'I wasn't thinking!' Antonio cried, backing away.

'Do you ever think?' Alin scoffed.

'Yes!' Antonio sighed, 'I was just happy to be doing something interesting for once and I got a bit carried away.'

'A bit?' Alin raised an eyebrow, 'I've never seen someone get that happy over cards before. Don't you get any excitement in that pub of yours?'

'Not really,' admitted Antonio, 'just fights and drunk people. Hardly glamorous.'

'True,' Alin grinned, 'no hard feelings, okay? We'll just try again somewhere else.'

'Cheers,' Antonio pulled Alin into a hug, 'come on, there's still a few hours of daylight left.'

…

I know, I know, I should have updated ages ago. Thank you for being patient everyone, it's just the next few chapters are still a bit hazy in my mind and I'm not certain on what to write. In fact, it appears I've been neglecting most of my stories and have to change that. I only got the motivation to write this when I went to a market place a few days ago (bought some socks…). It's not like I don't like this story anymore. I really want to get it finished and the sequel too, and will do so, it's just I'm lazy.

Anywho, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and please leave feedback!


	17. Denial

Alin poked and picked at the window at the back of the house, willing it to open. Shame on Heracles for not investing in a burglar alarm. Silly students.

Not that Alin was a burglar, of course. He wasn't _that_ desperate just yet.

It was late Tuesday evening now and he had to say their efforts were going, well, swimmingly. After deciding that, if they wanted to continue singing for money, everyone would need to know the same set of songs, Alin, Katya, Ed and Toni had sat at Ed's computer for the whole of Friday evening sharing their favourite songs. Alin had really enjoyed the evening and learning new Estonian/Ukrainian/Spanish songs and sharing some of his favourite artists. He'd managed to turn Ed into a huge Akcent fan too.

The weekend had passed by too quickly for his liking. It had been fun singing, dancing and performing with the others and had almost been enough to take his mind off of things. Almost. Today and yesterday he'd been on his own, except for a few hours with Antonio Monday evening. The others had been a distraction, and now there was nothing to stop him thinking about how he might well end up performing on his own if everything went wrong.

Altogether, the money earned, coupled with generous donations from friends (Toris, Tino, Francis and old man Vargas had given hundreds of dollars each, well, leant it to them) and collections from Toni and Ivan's bars had brought their total up to $5,500 out of the $10,000 needed to free Tsvetan. This had brought mixed feelings for Alin as, although he'd never thought they would make it that far, it was still a long way from the total. Two days left. That was all. Alin wondered how he was supposed to find $4,500 in that time. Maybe he _would_ have to resort to burglary.

The reason he found himself in Heracles' back garden was simply to check there were no hard feelings between them. Alin knew only too well the consequences of getting on the wrong side of a killer- it was why he was in this mess- and guessed Hera knew too. The man must be terrified! Especially when Alin was 'still at large', as the police put it, so Hera had no idea where the man he'd condemned was.

Said man was in his garden right now.

Alin forced the window open and quietly congratulated himself. Sure, he could've used the door, but he doubted anyone would answer to him. And he was always one for doing things in an elaborate fashion.

One leg inside, one leg out, Alin cast one final glance around the garden before throwing himself into the room. He stumbled, falling flat on the carpet, and hauled himself up, brushing down his coat. Okay, that could have been more graceful…

'Hera?' he hissed, slamming the window shut, 'hey, you here?' he peered around the darkened living room he found himself in. it was empty, abandoned even. Alin noted the half empty bottle of wine on the coffee table, the dust on the bookshelves and the games console left out on the floor. The place was messy, as if it had been evacuated in a hurry and Alin would usually dismiss it as 'those goddamn disorganized students', if Kiku hadn't been one of the cleanest, most organised people he knew.

Something wasn't right, and it made Alin feel pretty wary indeed. He made his way towards the hall, eyes still not entirely used to the dimness, intending to check the upstairs of the house.

'Kiku?' he hissed, peering into the hall, 'Stelios?'

'They're not here,' answered a gruff voice behind him. Alin wheeled round to find Sadik sprawled on the sofa, glass of red wine in hand, glaring at him with an expression of disgust and hate.

'Woah, didn't see ya there,' Alin laughed nervously, 'where are they?'

'Safe house,' Sadik grunted, taking another sip of wine, 'under witness protection.'

'Witness protection?' Alin raised an eyebrow, 'how come?'

'So you don't kill them out of revenge or silencing, like you did with Tsvetan. Heracles pointed the cops in your direction, so he, Kiku and Stelios were moved so you wouldn't come back and murder them.'

Alin groaned, 'not this shit again. Look, I don't want to kill anyone! I've never killed anyon-' Alin looked away, 'I never killed Tsvetan!'

'Hesitation?' Sadik watched him with a guarded expression, 'Tsvetan was my friend! He was your friend! Why the fuck did you do it?'

'I didn't,' Alin sighed, 'there would be no reason to!'

Sadik still didn't believe him. The taller, larger man stood up, using the wine bottle as a weapon, and moved towards Alin, 'I'm gonna have to turn you in. why else would you be here? You were planning to kill Hera and probably Kiku and Stelios too. Kiku is one of my greatest friends! The fact that you would even consider hurting him…!' he aimed a swipe at Alin's head, but the young man ducked, diving past Sadik and almost falling over the coffee table.

'You little shit,' growled Sadik, wheeling round, 'you're only making this harder on yourself,' he dived at Alin again, who climbed over the sofa and threw himself on the floor. He found himself in a corner and turned to face Sadik, the man's eyes were of anger and fear. Surely he did think Alin actually entered the house with the intention of killing? It would appear so…

'Fine!' he snapped, 'I give up. You can knock me out or strangle me or whatever you plan to do to keep me out of it long enough to call the police, on one condition.'

'No conditions!' growled Sadik, 'and I'm not even sure simply hitting is good enough for someone like you. Maybe I should kill you like you killed our friend.'

'All I'm asking,' gushed Alin, raising his hands in surrender, 'is for one minute. Just give me a minute to explain myself. Tsve is alive, okay? But he's in big trouble and I'm trying to help him.'

'Borisov is… alive?' Sadik shook his head, 'nah, you're lying! It said on the news you two had an argument and you murdered him!'

'I know,' Alin sighed, 'but it's not true.'

'Then where is Tsvetan, hmm?'

'In… a bad place.'

'You'll have to try better than that.'

'Then give me a chance to explain,' cried Alin, 'from the beginning.'

'You have a habit of tricking people and messing with their heads,' noted Sadik, 'I'm sure everything that comes out of your mouth will be untruths. Convincing, influential, but false nonetheless.'

'I've changed!' Alin tried.

'Bullshit!'

'Okay, maybe,' Alin shrugged, 'but I'm definitely changing. I cannot see any benefits in lying now. You will just see through them. Come on, what's one minute to you? Give a condemned man a chance!' Alin wasn't sure whether he meant him or Tsvetan in that last sentence.

'Fine,' growled Sadik, 'say what you have to say.'

Alin quickly explained the main events of the past few weeks, leaving out the assassin, Natalya's deal and his affairs with Jensen and Kirkland, but making sure to linger on his description of Tsvetan tied to a chair.

'They what?' gasped Sadik.

'Yup,' Alin grimaced from the thought, 'he's in pretty bad shape.'

'And you have a week to get ten thousand bucks or they kill him?'

'That's right,' Alin nodded, then frowned, 'well, two days now.'

'And you have… how much?'

'Just over half,' Alin cringed at how pathetic that sounded.

'Not good enough!' cried Sadik, 'are you even trying?'

'I'd like to see _you_ collect that much,' Alin pouted, glaring at the taller man.

'Well, I'm sure something will turn up,' Sadik shook his head, falling onto the couch in shock, 'but why would anyone want to abduct Tsvetan? He's about as offending as kids' telly. Such a polite boy… bit of a temper, but, in all honesty, you were the most likely of the pair to get taken away and murdered.'

'I thought it'd be me too,' Alin decided to stay next to the wall; Tsvetan wasn't the only one with a temper, 'well, it was because of me though. I'd pissed off Rose and Aleksander a while back and this… was kind of their revenge.'

'So if he dies it really will be your fault?' Sadik demanded, 'give me one reason why I shouldn't smash this bottle in your face!'

'Well,' Alin giggled nervously, 'one, I'm too pretty for that shit. Two, it's a bit of a dick move. Three, there's still wine in the bottle; why waste it? And four: how would that help Tsve in any way?'

'You're right,' Sadik sighed, sitting back in the chair.

'So what are you doing here?' Alin inquired, 'didn't think you and Hera liked each other enough that you'd have access to his house. Or was I not the only one climbing in through the window?'

'House sitting for Kiku,' replied Sadik, 'and looking after that dog-rabbit-gerbil thing that follows him around.'

'Oh,' Alin looked around, 'where_ is_ Poochi?'

Sadik's smile fell off his face, 'no fucking idea! You didn't kill it, did you?'

'And again with the accusations!' cried Alin, 'no I didn't kill the puffball on legs. So, I'll be on my way. If you see Hera, tell him I'm not after his blood, or any part of him,' Alin gave a final nod and tried to shuffle over to the window, but Sadik stopped him.

'Hang on,' he grunted, reaching into his wallet, 'here's twenty for Tsvetan's ransom.'

'That all?' Alin raised an eyebrow.

'I have five hundred in the bank,' continued Sadik, 'if I come round later with it, do you promise to pay me back?'

'O-of course,' Alin broke into a grin, pulling Sadik into a crushing hug, 'wow thank you so much! That would bring the total to around six thousand! I'm crashing at Katya's place so just stop by there whenever you like. Just… thanks, for believing in me.'

Sadik shrugged, 'it's not for you, it's for Borisov.'

'Course, thanks anyway,' then Alin reopened the window and disappeared through it.

…

'Oh, and then there was that fourteen year old who wanted to impress his friends, so he asked us for money to buy a games consol,' Rose glanced at Tsvetan with gleaming eyes, she loved telling him the truth about his friend's past, since Alin wasn't here to deny it, 'and you really should read the small print for such a deal, but he didn't and couldn't pay the interest we set him. It was fair warning really. In the end, we had to drag him into an alley and kick the shit out of him. It was terrible, blood everywhere. Only kind to put him out of his misery; Radacanu pulled the trigger, you know?'

'Don't believe it,' gasped Tsvetan, glaring at her.

'Now now,' Rose wandered over to him and patted his cheek, an action he flinched away from, 'don't go accusing me of lying, or we'll have to do something about that.'

'Yes ma'am,' Tsvetan spat, shaking. He didn't like Rose; she was far more vicious than Aleksander, though her visits were rarer. Every now and then she would do a random act of kindness too, and it scared him. It scared him because he couldn't find out her motives, and because he found himself being drawn to her, thinking that pleasing her would make her be kind again.

Make the pain stop.

'Excellent,' Rose took a few steps backwards, 'now I know you think Alin's some misguided saint, but he's not. He's cruel, brutal and sadistic, like us. Say you both walk away from this, say you both go back to doing whatever meaningless things you do, will it end there? No! Alin has a nasty streak he can't hide from. It'll kill you. _He'll_ kill you. Maybe not directly- though that is likely- but his actions will lead to your downfall. And if not yours, then someone else you care about.'

'No,' Tsvetan shook his head, 'he changed! He got out of the bad place and you can too! We can help you.'

Rose hissed, and lashed out at him. Tsvetan cried in pain, tears once again forming in his eyes. Now was not the time for putting on a brave face and he shook harder, nails digging into the chair as he glanced at his captor fearfully. Rose just smirked, wiping skin and blood off her fingernails, which had left four large gashes on the young man's cheek. Then she punched him in the stomach, for good measure, before smiling sweetly.

'Sorry about that,' she said, 'my temper got the better of me. That shan't happen again,' she stroked his hair slowly, 'sweet boy. Don't worry; I won't hurt you any more.'

Tsvetan didn't reply, and she just left him, walking out of the room and downstairs into the large hall, footsteps echoing as she glided over the wooden floor. Overhearing soft, tinkling music coming from the drawing room, she headed to the ajar door and peeked in.

Aleksander and Natalya were doing a simple duet on the piano, backs to her, and giving each other small, reassuring smiles. Rose frowned, and stepped inside, coughing.

'Yes?' asked Aleksander, turning around.

'I need to talk to you,' replied Rose, 'alone,' she added, shooting Natalya a warning glare. The girl nodded in understanding, glaring back as she pushed past Rose.

'About what?' Aleksander stood up and moved to an armchair, 'I assume everything is going well.'

'Of course,' Rose smiled, taking a seat opposite him, 'young Mr. Borisov will be broken into tiny pieces in time for Thursday. Alin would allow us to kill him if he really cared about his friend's welfare. If Radacanu even thought for a moment they could go away scot free…'

'No, if they both get out then our legacy must follow,' agreed Aleksander.

'Speaking of legacy,' began Rose, 'what do you say to making this our last episode? Seems fitting the trio would get back together one final time.'

'Retirement?' Aleksander's eyebrows shot up.

'In a way,' Rose sighed, 'I'm tired of the killing and the moving about and the blackmail. It bores me now and I want to try normal. I have a son who I have not seen since he was a baby. After we kill Radacanu, I plan to take Peter back and raise him, like I should have all along.'

'I respect your choice,' Aleksander told her, 'thank you for telling me, and I wish you both the very best in everything you do.'

'Come with us,' requested Rose, 'think about it, the three of us could be a normal family! You would be a wonderful father to Peter and a wonderful partner to me. Ditch the little Belarusian girl; she is meant to be a servant anyway! You can't be serious about spending time with her.'

Aleksander scratched his chin, 'I care for Natalya deeply,' he said slowly, 'but I care for you too, and your proposition is intriguing. Give me time to think about it.'

'That's all I ask.'

…

Not much to say here, except please, please, please leave feedback!


	18. Last few hours

'I left Peter a song,' Rose broke the silence between her and Aleksander, looking down at her hands as she sat on the sofa in a light green jumper and long skirt, but still looking elegant and neat. Her hair was tied into a messy bun and she was wearing minimal jewellery. Of course, she would look a lot different later that night. It was Thursday evening now, and behind them the sun slowly began to set through the window, disappearing behind the threes and casting an orange glow about the living room, 'the night I handed him over to Tino,' Rose continued to explain as Aleksander listened patiently, watching her with curious eyes as he leaned back in the sofa, once more dressed in a smart suit, 'I sang him a lullaby and left the lyrics with Tino and Berwald, telling them to sing it to him every night before he goes to sleep, so that he'll have something to remember me by.'

'I see,' Aleksander nodded slowly; Rose rarely talked about her son.

'I wonder if he would remember his mother's voice,' Rose shrugged gracefully, 'I wonder if Tino even did what I asked him to.'

'Most likely,' Aleksander paused for a moment, 'he and Berwald are good with children. And they would respect your wishes.'

'Have you made up your mind about coming with me?' Rose looked at him and arched an eyebrow, 'tonight's the big night. Tomorrow I'm visiting Tino and getting Peter back, whatever that jumped up little assassin has to say about it. Will you be with me then?'

'I'm still unsure,' Aleks sighed, 'it's an enormous decision.'

'Hardy,' Rose wrinkled her nose, 'me or her? Come on now lad; we haven't got all day.'

'It's a little more complicated than that and you know it,' Aleksander allowed himself a small smile, 'I have feelings for two people at the same time, and that on it's own is more emotion than I'm used to. And you are asking me to give up something I've spent a lifetime doing to settle down with a child that probably isn't mine.'

'Would the fact that Peter and yourself have no biological relation bother you?' Rose demanded.

'Not at all,' Aleksander raised a hand, 'sorry it came out like that. I'm merely stating that the new lifestyle would be a bit of a… shock to the system.'

'Accepted,' Rose bowed her head, 'I will give you more time to think of it. Though I must say, in all honesty, I fail to believe you have feelings for Natalya. Would you be holding her brother, Ivan's, life over her head if you did?'

Aleksander couldn't reply.

Natalya, who had been listening through the door the entire time, gave a small, wicked smile. Quietly as she could, the girl tiptoed down the corridor, back to the safety of one of the empty rooms. There was no way she would allow them to have a silly little 'happily ever after', not after what they'd done to her. It wasn't out of romantic jealously, as she'd lost all feelings for Aleksander a long time ago, but pure anger and hatred towards the pair, especially the man she used to care for. They'd threatened to kill her precious brother, one of the two people she cared most about in the world, and expected to get away with it? Did they really imagine that she would be okay with that? To just bow down to their demands? To obey them without a fuss? No, she would not allow that.

But how could she bring them down without her family getting hurt in the process?

…

'Well, it's time,' Alin took a deep breath to calm himself and looked from Katya to Eduard to Toni, waiting for their reactions. The four of them stood around Katya's dining table, where, sat right in the middle of them, was a suitcase- provided by Eduard- filled with eight thousand five hundred dollars in cash. It stared up at them, as if it were also waiting for their next move.

'How are we meant to get you there?' asked Eduard, 'there are cops everywhere. Apparently the situation's become a bit desperate and they're searching the area you were last sighed i.e. Eli's neighbourhood. We'll have to be careful.'

'I feel ill already,' Alin groaned.

'It'll be a breeze,' Toni assured him, 'come on, it's already five thirty!'

'It's a pretty long way to Eli's house,' Eduard commented, 'could be anything from forty-five minutes to an hour.'

'That's not so bad,' replied Alin.

'For us maybe,' Eduard took his glasses off to wipe them on his shirt, 'you'll be in the trunk.'

'What? Why?' Alin groaned.

'It's just to be safe,' Eduard assured him.

'Even with your disguise the cops could recognise you,' added Katya, 'come on,' she picked up the suitcase, closed it and passed it to Alin, 'it'll be better than you think.'

'I doubt that,' Alin mumbled, following his friends into the hall where they put on coats, tucked Alin's hair into a cap leant by Toni, and slipped out the door. Checking to see if the coast was clear, Katya walked quietly to her car and Alin followed, clutching the suitcase to his chest. Katya quietly opened the trunk and Alin climbed in as quickly as he could, squashed uncomfortably amongst blankets, tools and the suitcase, as well as other things he couldn't quite make out. Something with a sharp corner cut into his back and he hissed in annoyance; Katya just chuckled and shut the lid, shrouding him in darkness.

'It's a lovely evening,' Antonio commented, making polite conversation as he joined Katya, Eduard trailing behind.

'Yes,' Katya looked up. The sun was behind the houses now and the sky was streaked with orange, purple and grey. Katya wrapped her coat tighter around herself and got in behind the wheel whilst Eduard walked around to the passenger side and Antonio climbed in the back.

Most of the journey was uneventful. No one spoke, and Katya looked ahead as she drove. Antonio gazed out of the window whilst Eduard fiddled with the radio.

About ten minutes from Elizabeta's house, they saw warning signs on the sidewalk and police cars littered about. They came to a stop in front of another car, where the driver was leaning out of the window in conversation with a policeman. Katya's grip on the steering wheel tightened as the driver gave a final wave a drove off, leaving the policeman's attention solely on their car.

'Hey it's probably nothing,' Antonio assured her.

Eduard scratched his nose, hand covering his mouth in case the officer could lip-read and discretely whispered to Katya: 'if he searches the car we're fucked.'

Katya nodded trembling.

'Let's just pretend we have nothing to hide,' he removed his hand and shrugged, 'they probably want to ask a few questions, that's all. There's nothing he can arrest us for.'

Katya nodded and rolled down her window as the officer approached.

'Something the matter?' she asked innocently.

'Not at all miss,' replied the policeman, 'I want to say be on the lookout for a suspected murderer. I'm sure you've seen on the news-'

'Yes it's awful,' Katya shuddered, 'I hope you catch him and lock him up forever!'

'So do I,' the policeman sighed, 'just be careful, especially around this area. If you see anything suspicious, then please tell us.'

'Noted,' said Eduard, leaning forward slightly.

'So where are you two headed?'

'A friend's house,' replied Eduard, 'they're having a little get together.'

'I see,' the police officer eyed Antonio, who grinned back, 'is he with you?'

'Yeah,' Katya glanced around nervously, 'he's our… son.'

The officer looked back, arching an eyebrow, 'your son?'

Katya turned round to look at a confused Antonio, then turned back to the police officer, 'okay, I'll tell you the truth; he's not our son. He's our…'

'Don't say he's your brother,'

'He's our friend,' Eduard explained, 'we're just giving him a lift, that's all.'

'Really?' the officer raised an eyebrow, 'why didn't you say that before?'

'I panicked, okay?' cried Katya, 'you're scary and I couldn't think straight! I've been under a lot of stress what with my students who are out of control and so damn stupid! Plus my brother's being irritating and my sister's stopped talking to me and I never have time because of work and I just want to relax and go to a damn party!' she seemed close to tears now, breathing quickly and rocking back and forth slightly. The officer looked away, clearly uncomfortable.

'Well, I shan't be keeping you then,' he said, taking a few steps back from the car and gestured for them to continue. Katya nodded and drove off, not saying a word, just concentrating on the road.

For a few minutes, there was silence, then Eduard spoke up.

'If you… ever feel stressed,' be began, 'then just tell me and I'll try to make things easier for you.'

'That's so sweet of you,' Katya turned to him and smiled, 'but I'm actually fine. I just got a bit scared he'd search the car and thought that the cop wouldn't want to deal with someone who was upset and crying. It worked, didn't it?'

'That was all an act?' Eduard grinned, 'that was amazing! Wow you're brilliant, I just, I love you!'

Katya's smile fell and she swerved to avoid a car coming towards them.

'Eye's on the road!' cried Antonio, hugging his knees, 'who says that to someone when they're driving?' he hissed, glaring at Eduard.

Katya pulled over to the side of the road, and stared at Eduard in shock, not saying anything. Eduard squirmed under her gaze.

'I'm sorry,' he mumbled, 'I didn't mean to-'

'You said you love me,' Katya stated numbly, 'is it true?' she was shaking slightly.

'I err-' Eduard looked away.

'Yes!' cried Antonio, 'he loves you! He's crazy about you! get it together Ed; it's not _that_ hard to say it.'

'Really?' asked Katya.

Eduard sighed, 'yes. I… I love you, Yekaterina Braginskaya.'

'I love you too,' replied Katya, 'Eduard Von Brock.'

'You do?' Eduard smiled warmly and pulled Katya into a hug, kissing her cheek, to which Katya responded with a kiss on his lips, almost knocking off his glasses.

'Yes, yes,' Antonio rolled his eyes, 'can we please go now? We're a bit short for time, you know?'

'Of course,' Katya broke away and started the car again. The rest of the journey was uneventful, and soon they were outside Roderich and Elizabeta's house. Checking to make sure the coast was clear, Katya opened the trunk and helped a battered and bruised Alin out and shepherded him to the porch before he could start complaining about the journey.

Eduard rapped on the door and it was soon answered by Roderich, who nodded and let them in, blinking in shock at the number of people gathered in his hallway.

'I wasn't expecting so many of you,' he stated, shutting the door.

'Yeah sorry,' Alin scratched the back of his head, 'these guys kinda helped me a lot this past week so it would be a shame for them to miss out now.'

'Fair enough,' Roderich lead them into the sitting room, where Elizabeta was curled up on the couch reading a story to Franz, who was half buried by pillows and his mother's skirt. Alin plopped down next to them and Elizabeta sighed.

'Hello,' she said through gritted teeth, 'so how short did you fall of your target?'

'Only one thousand five hundred,' Alin grimaced.

'Oh, that's not so bad,' Elizabeta blinked, 'I thought we'd be paying half or something.'

'Nah you're good,' Alin lay back in the couch and everyone else made themselves comfortable, 'so what happens now?'

'I'll pop to the bank,' said Roderich, 'then we just wait until it's time.'

Alin groaned, 'I don't think I can last much long; the tension's killing me!'

'Calm down,' Elizabeta stated as Roderich left.

'If I could don't you think I would've by now?' Alin shot her a glare.

'You need to stay composed and attentive,' Eduard told him, 'you'll need your wits about you.'

'I know,' Alin turned his glare on the young man.

'We're only trying to help,' Antonio sniffed.

'I know,' Alin sighed, 'I'm just so nervous.'

'Don't be,' exclaimed Katya, 'you've done everything you can, now there's just one more challenge and you're done.'

'Yes, but I'm scared of going back to the place,' Alin rubbed his nose, shuddering slightly, 'I'm scared of seeing what state Tsve's in, and I'm terrified of seeing _those people_ again. They're up to something; I just know it.'

'You'll be fine,' Katya assured him, 'just think, this time tomorrow you'll be back home, in your own home, with your name cleared, starting a new life with Tsvetan. You're going to help him through all the effects of his ordeal and you will be there for him! Take him to therapy sessions, sit in the waiting room for the whole hour so he doesn't have to stand around waiting for you, get a job so you two don't risk jail again, and comfort him,' Katya's face took on a serious tone, and she stared at Alin as if she were dissecting him, 'and don't leave him, ever. Got it?'

'Wouldn't have it any other way,' Alin's frown deepened, 'I just hope he gets better.'

…

Everyone was once more crowded into Katya's little car, Antonio, and Elizabeta in the back (Roderich was at home looking after Franz) with Alin once more in the trunk, much to the young man's horror. As they pulled up in front of the house Eduard had directed them to, Elizabeta got out to open the trunk, grabbing Alin by his shirt collar and roughly pulling him out.

'Hey watch it!' he snapped, holding the suitcase- now containing the right amount of money- to his chest, as if it were a precious gem. Elizabeta just rolled her eyes.

'You going then?' she asked.

'Yeah, sure,' Alin glanced at the big house, 'look, I've been thinking...'

'Was it painful?' Elizabeta arched an eyebrow.

'Now's not the time for jokes,' Alin snapped, 'this is some serious shit, and there's a good chance lives will be lost if it doesn't go well. Negotiations like this are delicate and can easily break down if the right words aren't said. I think… I think this is a matter for the emergency services.'

'What are you saying?' asked Elizabeta in confusion.

'If I'm not out of there in three hours,' explained Alin, 'call the police. Maybe they can save Tsvetan if I fail.'

'You won't fail,' Elizabeta gave a reassuring smile, 'but we'll be keeping track of the time anyway, and after three hours we'll phone them.'

'Thank you,' Alin nodded, 'that's all I ask.'

Elizabeta gave one final nod then got into the car.

'Katya,' Alin leaned in through the front window, 'don't wait here for me, please. It'll look suspicious.'

'Of course,' Katya started the engine and Alin stepped back, watching as they drove off, disappearing around the corner, wishing they would be able to come with him for support. Then again, at least this way they were safe out here.

Sighing, he turned towards the house and walked up to the gate, steeling himself before pressing the buzzer.

…

**Pretty late, huh? Still, shit's about to go down. I predict this story will have about 5-6 chapters left which kinda gives me mixed feelings. On the one hand, it'll be nice to finally complete a story, but then again, I'll kinda miss this story and writing robul. **

**Still, never mind.**

**Please leave feedback.**


	19. Negotiations

Alin felt numb.

His brain barely registered his conversation with Jensen through the buzzer, or stumbling along the garden path, looking around cautiously with that suitcase still clutched to his chest like a lifeline. What if he was too late? What if he was to answer the door only to find Rose telling him they'd been 'too rough' with his friend. If that happened, it would most likely be the last straw for his temper…

No! Alin shook the thought from his head, trying to focus on the task at hand. Everything will go smoothly, he told himself. Why wouldn't it? He had the money, they had Tsvetan; it was a simple trade.

Then why did he feel this sense of doom?

Hand shaking, he knocked determinedly on the front door, readjusting the suitcase in his other hand, gripping it tightly through his glove.

It was Rose who answered, giving a cold smile as she ushered him inside, green eyes scrutinising his outfit.

'You never told us we had to be in fancy dress,' she commented, smiling smugly, 'you've even coloured your hair. Blond isn't really your thing, I must say.'

'Oy!' growled Alin, taking his hat off, 'I had to wear this crap all week to hide from the cops because _someone_ thought it would be a good idea to plant a knife in my apartment.'

'It was only meant to scare you,' she replied calmly, 'we never predicted the police would be informed,' she tilted her head slightly, 'we could always make the informer _pay_, if you're interested?'

'That won't be necessary,' Alin assured her, somewhat relieved Heracles and his family were out of harm's way. So the police had their good points too…

'If you say so,' Rose shrugged, 'take you coat off then; might as well get started.'

Alin hesitated at that. He'd barely taken off the large, violet coat Katya had given him, all week and didn't particularly want to now. It was thick, and he almost felt it would offer him some protection against whatever weapons Jensen and Kirkland had, if negotiations broke down. However, he knew he was being silly, and did not want to come across as difficult, so simply nodded, placing his hat and coat on the stand, revealing a maroon shirt and pants the same colour; still, not the worse thing he'd worn that week. By Sunday he'd been questioning Toni's sense of fashion, as he pulled on an orange pullover covered in tiny turtles.

'Well, come along then,' Rose began to walk towards the dining from, and Alin followed, hoping he wouldn't have to sit through another tense dinner and glancing around for Natalya. He wanted to know where she was, still clinging to that hope she'd help him. He couldn't see her lurking in the shadows or at the top of the stairs, and guessed she just wasn't there. It didn't matter anyway; she still wouldn't be any help to him, no matter how hard he hoped otherwise.

To his surprise, the dining table was clear and empty; not even a table cloth and candles were set out. Crossing the room swiftly, Rose opened the door to Aleksander's small study and Alin felt both tense and relieved as he followed, finding himself in the same, small but imposing, office surrounded by books.

'Ah,' Aleksander greeted him, giving a small but extremely cold smile as he gestured to the seat in front of his desk. Alin obeyed without question, resting the suitcase on his lap. He didn't trust them enough to part with it just yet. Rose, meanwhile, took a seat in her armchair, which had been moved to the other side of the room, behind him. Alin hated how she wasn't in his line of sight, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, but didn't comment on it. It wouldn't make any difference to them, and they'd only mock him, or try to frighten him further. Still, he felt defenceless like this, especially since she was also next to the only door.

'How have you been?' Aleksander continued.

'Fine,' Alin replied stiffly. And again with the small talk…

Aleksander regarded the case, eyes gleaming, 'well, well, is that for us? Did you get our stolen cash?'

'Yes,'

'All of it?'

'Course,' Alin grinned, 'I'm not one to mess about. I said I'd have your money, and I got it.'

'You better not be bullshitting us,' Aleksander warned, 'we will shoot Borisov right in front of you if it's not all there.'

'There'll be no need for that,' Alin assured him, 'so, shall we get this over with?'

'I don't see why not,' came Rose's voice, 'just put the money on the table.'

Alin nodded, sliding the suitcase over the Aleksander, who opened it, counting silently, running his fingers over the green slips, organised into neat rows by Eduard earlier that day, lips moving slightly as he did so. After a while he sighed, letting go of the lid and letting the case snap shut before turning to Alin, eyes narrowing.

'It's not all there,'

'What?' Alin shook his head, letting out a nervous giggle, 'you're joking! It's all there; I counted it myself.'

'And I, too, counted it,' Aleksander glared at him, 'and I'm telling you it's not enough.'

'All ten thousand's there!'

'You think it was ten thousand?' Aleksander shook his head, regarding him with amusement, 'oh, dear boy, you should learn to listen properly.'

'I did!' Alin waved a hand wildly, 'you said the money I stole plus interest was ten thousand.'

'It was ten thousand last Thursday,' Aleksander corrected, 'don't tell me you forgot to add interest for this week.'

'I didn't know that,' he spat, 'why didn't you say?'

'You're a smart boy,' Aleksander shrugged, 'we thought you'd figure it out for yourself.'

'This was deliberate!' Alin cried.

'Now now,' Aleksander chided, 'don't go making such slanderous accusations. Anyway, seven days would probably generate about 20 percent interest, is that right, Rose?'

'I believe so,' Rose replied, 'which would add two thousand to the ransom, bringing the total to twelve-thousand dollars.'

'So where's our extra two-thousand?' Aleksander arched an eyebrow, facing Alin once more.

'I don't have it!'

'That's a shame, still, you tried your best so don't be too harsh on yourself,' Aleksander stood up, pulling a small handgun out of his blazer, 'shall I say goodbye to your friend for you?'

'No!'

Alin couldn't stop himself from reacting. He jumped up, lunging across the table to try to snatch the gun away but before he could get to it, a pair of pale arms snaked around his torso, pulling him back.

'N-no!' he cried again, struggling against Rose's grasp, 'don't hurt him!' a pointy shoe collided with the back of his knee and he stumbled, held up by the woman behind him.

'We gave you a fair chance,' Aleksander began moving towards the door, 'it's your own fault he will die.'

'No, please, you can't do it!' Alin tried once more to break free but after another kick, he fell to the floor, dissolving into a puddle of tears and pleading, Rose grabbing a fistful of hair to keep him in place, 'please, I'm begging you, give me more time!'

'I don't think so,' Aleksander was standing in the doorway now, 'Rose, please see our guest to the door, in case he tries anything.'

'Of course,' Rose tugged sharply at Alin's hair, willing him to move, but Alin was beyond caring. Sobbing loudly, he just sat there, all thoughts of dignity and composure behind him. It couldn't end like this! He'd done what he'd asked, but it still wasn't enough…

'No! Wait,' an idea slowly forming, Alin tried one last time to grab Jensen's attention but the man in question just turned, disappearing into the dining room. Alin growled, hauling himself up and finally breaking free of Rose's grasp.

'Hey, wait-'

'A deal!' Alin darted into the dining room, where Aleksander was opening the door to the hall, 'let's make a deal!' Aleksander looked at him curiously, but before Alin could speak, Rose lunged at him, punching him in the stomach and knocking him to the ground.

'Wait,' Aleksander raised a hand, slowly walking over to Alin until he was standing over him. Kneeling down, he grabbed a chunk of Alin's hair, twisting his head upwards so they were facing each other, 'go on.'

'Are you seriously paying attention to this piece of shit?' snorted Rose, 'he's just trying to buy more time.'

'Maybe,' Aleksander shrugged, 'or maybe his shell of a skull's managed to rattle a logical thought together. What kind of deal do you have in mind?'

Alin trembled as he spoke, 'a life for a life. Take me in Tsvetan's place.'

Rose's eyebrows shot up, 'playing the noble hero, are we? Now this is a side of you I've never seen…'

'Come on,' Alin's eyes darted between them, 'I'm the one who hurt you; I'm the one you want to punish. Why don't we start leaving Tsvet out of this?'

'You'd willingly die to save your 'friend'?' there was a slight sneer to Aleksander's voice, 'I don't believe it.'

'Well, I'm offering my life, okay?' Alin sighed, 'do we have a deal?'

'What do you say, Rose?'

'We're still getting a death,' Rose shrugged, 'if Alin thinks it's not kinder to put Borisov out of his misery, then fine. Kill him.'

'You have yourself a deal,' Aleksander took one of Alin's hands, shaking it. He let go of Alin's hair, and the young man dropped to the floor before turning onto his back, staring weakly as Aleksander slowly raised his gun.

'Wait,' he gasped, 'what do you mean by 'put Borisov out of his misery'? What have you done to him that's more terrible than before?'

'That's not your business anymore,' Aleksander waved a hand, 'he's alive; that's all you need to know, now hold still.'

Alin sighed, praying that this was the right choice. He tried not to focus on the fact that he was dying, only on Tsvetan living. But something told him that Jensen and Kirkland were continuing to be their untrustworthy selves, not that it mattered anymore. He had to have faith. Tsvetan would live, be free and rebuild his life, without Alin there to ruin everything for him.

As Aleksander took aim, finger on the trigger, Alin closed his eyes, waiting for it to end.

…

**Sorry for the delay, but hey! It's finally up! It feels weird to be this close to finishing another fic, something I haven't done since last December. Still, I'm thinking of going the whole hog and making this a trilogy, what do you all think about that?**


	20. Double or nothing

'Wait!'

A gunshot fired and Alin flinched, but there was no pain, no reddened vision, no end.

He must've missed.

Alin ignored Rose's shout, since Aleksander clearly had, and took a deep breath, letting his muscles relax. _Go on. What were you waiting for, Jensen?_ _You've probably dreamed of this moment for years, you sick bastard. Just get it over with._ But nothing came. It seemed like the man's love of killing with suspense was keeping him from pulling the trigger and Alin refused to say anything, lest it give away his frustration.

He didn't want to die and Aleksander knew that. He didn't want a fuss, time to think about what was happening. He just wanted Tsvetan safe.

_And Aleksander knew that._

Eventually, Alin opened one eye, ever so slightly, and looked up. To his surprise, Rose had grabbed Aleksander's wrist, forcing the gun to point towards the ceiling. Aleksander's expression betrayed the man's shock and confusion as he stared into his partner's fierce eyes. He wasn't the only one who had no clue what was going on. _What the hell was Rose doing? _Alin wondered if, by some miracle, she had suddenly become moral and was determined to atone for her past actions by saving him. But one glance at her, manic, wicked, smug grin said otherwise.

She was plotting something.

'Why don't we have a little fun first, hmm?' she purred before adding something in Aleksander's ear, so Alin couldn't hear it. She removed her lips from the side of his face, then curled them into a smile, thrown in Alin's direction.

'Intriguing,' Aleksander murmured, 'alright. What would you say, Radacanu, if we gave you the chance to walk away alive, with Borisov, if you complete a challenge first?'

'I would say you're a lying piece of-'

'Hush!' Alin fell silent. What the hell was he thinking? Now was not the time for insulting the man with the weapon.

'Of course,' continued Aleksander, 'if you fail the challenge. Yours and Tsvetan's deaths will be slow and excruciating. Think of it as double or nothing; you like a gamble, don't you?'

'Actually, I like playing cards,' corrected Alin, 'it's others who force me to gamble.'

'Can't have enjoyment without risking something in return,' Aleksander sighed, 'do we have a deal or not?'

'I think I've gone quite off your so called 'deals', Jensen,' Alin spat, 'but nevertheless, I'm intrigued. What sort of challenge do you have in mind?'

'A test of will and strength,' was all Aleksander told him, 'you will find out soon enough, if you agree to this.'

'I don't know,' Alin sighed, 'this is a trap, isn't it?'

'It's gonna cost you to see my cards.'

'I'm thinking,' Alin rested his head on the ground. At this point, he was dead and Tsvetan was alive. Here he was with the opportunity for them both to survive, to rebuild their lives and be together. However, if he failed whatever impossible task was set, they'd both die, and everything he'd done to save Tsvetan, everything his friends had done, would be for nothing.

But hey, at least they'd be together.

'Fine, deal,' why did he deal like he'd condemned Tsvetan to a terrible fate?

'Great,' Rose clapped her hands together, 'I'll get the stake money- err- I mean the prisoner.'

Oh, that's why.

As Rose dashed into the hallway, Aleksander walked closer to Alin, gun still in his hand.

'Shake on it,' he growled, taking Alin's wrist and shaking it roughly, 'there, no going back now.'

'Can you tell me what my challenge is at least?' Alin hated how his voice sounded, tired and cracking. This was all too much to take.

'All in good time,' Aleksander's lips twitched upwards for a split second, 'now get up and stop sprawling around on the floor like some animal.'

Alin glared furiously, but pulled himself up off the burgundy carpet.

'Let's hope you're still as vicious as you used to be,' Aleksander commented, slowly making his way towards the door, 'get out,' he barked, 'stay in front and don't try anything.'

Alin nodded, tentatively walking over to Jensen, who roughly pushed him into the hall, digging the butt of the gun into the small of his back and grabbing a fistful of hair.

Soon enough, Rose reappeared, dragging a figure behind her with a rope tied around his wrists, and stopped before them. Alin couldn't keep the cry of shock from escaping his lips.

If Tsvetan had been bad last time they'd met, then Alin couldn't find a word to describe him now. Still blindfolded, he shook constantly, flinching at the slightest sound. Several of his injuries looked inflamed now, along with new, deeper marks across his face, chest and arms, and Alin just wanted to lift him up and run to the nearest hospital. He was thin, emaciated even, and could barely stand whilst his ruined clothes did nothing to protect him from bitter cold and the brutality of his captors.

Rose sneered at his reaction, and roughly removed his blindfold. Tsvetan flinched, trembling at her touch and shying away, but didn't struggle, didn't resist.

Dead eyes, that had probably not seen light in weeks, blinked slowly, fearfully around the hall, fixing on Alin and slowly focusing.

'You,' he hissed, voice raspy.

'Tsvet,' Alin wanted to pull his friend into a hug, but couldn't. Not with that deadly thing behind him, and the gun too.

Tsvetan shook his head, taking a step backwards and tugging against his ropes, 'no! You lied! You said you'd save me and-'

'Quiet!' Rose whacked the back of Tsvetan's head and he fell to the ground, hugging his knees and trembling.

'I'm sorry,' he mumbled, 'please, don't hurt me.'

'Of course not,' Rose stroked his hair gently, 'why would I do that?'

'Right, si-silly me,' Tsvetan giggled nervously, still shaking.

'What have you done to him you bastards?' Alin tried to rush forward, but Aleksander pulled him backwards by his hair, 'no, you've hurt him!'

'No need to act so surprised,' Aleksander sighed, 'and didn't Rose say to put him out of his misery? Not our fault you never listen.'

'Al, you wouldn't, would you?' Tsvetan glanced up uneasily.

'Never,' Alin smiled at his friend warmly, trying to give him some form of reassurance and hope, 'look, I just have to do one more thing and then we'll be out of here. Hell, we could be going home within the hour! What do you say?'

'I'd like that,' Tsvetan gave a small smile, which quickly faded, 'I'm… I'm sorry about what I said…'

'I deserved it,' Alin replied simply.

'True, now cut the crap; do you want him back or not? We have things to do!' Rose kicked Tsvetan harshly, 'get up, up!' Tsvetan nodded and shakily hauled himself up as fast as his tied hands would allow him to.

'Much better,' Rose turned back to Alin, 'so now we've seen what's at stake, are you ready to play for your lives?'

'I am,' Alin avoided Tsvetan's gaze.

'Good,' Rose tugged at the rope in her hands, marching over to a nearby door and throwing it open to reveal wooden steps descending into darkness, probably the basement. She grabbed Tsvetan's collar and threw him in, ignoring the young man's startled yelp and the sickening sounds that followed each time a part of Tsvetan's body was smacked against the wooden planks. Eventually, the noises stopped as Tsvetan landed on cold, stone floor, gave a small whimper and fell silent.

'Wait, stop! What are you doing?' Alin tried to dart after him, but Rose produced a lighter from her pocket, holding the naked flame over the stairs.

'Come any closer and I'll drop it after him.'

Alin stopped, frozen in his spot and unable to look away from the fire. Yes, it was small, artificial, controlled, but he knew what it could become. Who it could destroy. It would consume everything in the room, choking and burning and Alin tried not to picture Tsvetan lying on the floor, unable to move with his injuries, slowly suffocating as flames licked at his clothes. He didn't want to imagine his friend calling out for help, only to receive a lungful of smoke in reply. Who would find the body? Jensen and Kirkland would be out of there in a heartbeat, after killing Alin, of course, and there was no one left to look for them. They would die before anyone would find them. What about the others? He didn't want to picture his friends coming to his rescue in three hours to find an inferno and be unable to stop it. Would the fire fighters arrive, bringing out two bodies wrapped in sheets? All because of that uncontrollable, deadly fire.

'Oh don't worry,' Rose purred, coming closer, stilling holding that damned lighter, 'if it comes to it, you'll be down there too when the fire starts, if you fail the challenge. So you can both die together! Isn't that nice of us?'

Alin nodded stiffly, eyes still on the flame. He didn't want it near him; he wanted to run, to make her put it out, but it would be no use. It was too close though. He could almost feel its heat, creeping towards him and longing to lick at his face, arms, body, and his mind was starting to drag himself back to when he was a child, when he made that stupid mistake…

'Now,' Rose clicked the lighter shut, and Alin sighed in relief, 'your challenge.'

'Right, what would that be?' Alin braced himself for whatever trail they'd prepared for him. It was a spontaneous decision, so they wouldn't have had time to come of with something too horrifying, right?

Unless they'd planned this all along. Alin realised in horror that they had probably known he'd try to swap his life for Tsvetan's, that he'd never be able to resist one last chance of life.

They were never getting out of here.

'You will be pitted against three opponents, myself, Rose and Natalya, in that order, in hand-to-hand combat. The only rule: no killing. If you bring us all to the ground and we don't get up in five seconds, you can collect your friend, leave and we'll say nothing more of this. But if one- just one- of us wins, you're both history. Understood?'

'Perfectly.

…

**Right, well, sorry for the long delay. I can't even blame it on my other fics because I've hardly updated them. So yeah, I'm just really lazy, and, if anyone was following Red Doll when I was writing it, you'd know I love dragging out cliff hangers. Speaking of, I hope this wasn't a disappointing resolution to said cliff hanger. **


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